Sliding Dawes
by purpleone
Summary: Molly Dawes is having a bad day. This is the story of the two paths her life could take depending on whether she catches a train or not.
1. Chapter 1

**All rights to Tony Grounds & the BBC for the Our Girl characters and to Peter Howitt for the Sliding Doors story. Hope you don't mind me borrowing them for a bit of fun.**

 **Molly is having a bad day**

"Shit, shittity, shit", Molly Dawes mutters to herself looking at her watch as she rushes towards the office on the Monday morning following her 30th birthday weekend. She knows she is going to be late for the weekly management meeting, but is confident that she'll be able to bullshit her way through it. She works in PR for goodness sake, which is all bullshit, bullshit, bullshit anyway. She loves her job, specialising in high-end restaurant and hotel launches, and is bleedin' good at it, but does struggle with the macho sexist arseholes she currently works with who do their best to show her up and trip her up at every opportunity. When she was headhunted by Matt Geddings, a former boss, eighteen months ago she had been ecstatic at the opportunity to join such a high-profile PR firm, but things had gone to shit since Matt had himself been headhunted by a top-tier New York agency six months ago. He'd asked her to go with him, but she'd regretfully declined because her boyfriend, Dylan, had begged her to stay with him in London.

Dylan Smith is part of the reason she is late this morning. She'd tried to get out of bed when the alarm went off, but he had been intent on delaying her. She's been missing his attentions in recent weeks as he's been quite distracted, so she had allowed herself to be delayed. It was alright for him she thought, as a published writer he was the master of his time, not governed by weekly management meetings and demanding clients. She certainly doesn't begrudge him pursuing his dream, but she is looking forward to the day when this so-called "difficult" second book is finished and he will be in a position to pay his way once again and hopefully focus a bit more on their relationship, rather than blowing hot and cold the whole time.

As she passes Qaseem's café, Qaseem comes out with her morning cuppa, thrusting it into her hand with a smile and a fond "Good morning, Molly". Barely stopping, she gives him one of her killer smiles and mouths a massive "Thank you". Qaseem knows that his favourite customer will sort out payment when she comes in for a late lunch and chat in the afternoon.

She enters the conference room, where the management meeting is already under way, conscious that the atmosphere is tense. She takes her seat and grabs some papers from her bag.

Sohail, the head of the London office is, as usual, eyeing her with barely concealed distain. "Miss Dawes, we're honoured that you decided to put in an appearance today."

She really doesn't like his tone and is more than a little irritated as he knows, as well as the other four smirking men sat around the swanky conference table, that she always works way more than her contracted 35 hours a week. Knowing she can't let him know that he's getting to her, she decides to brazen it out. "Sorry Sohail, I know I'm late, but yer gonna shittin' love the plans I've come up with for the Avalon Hotel launch next month."

She's slightly surprised when he doesn't answer her, but merely puts an empty box on the table with what she thinks looks like a decidedly unpleasant smirk on his face. She looks at the box, trying to process what this means. "Fuck, fuckity, fuck" she thinks as she realises this is the vodka box, from which she borrowed four bottles of vodka last week.

Starting to feel quite uncomfortable and more than a little bit vulnerable she stutters, "I took four bottles of vodka on Friday. It was me birthday. You know that. I was 'avin' a party, and I was runnin' late, so I borrowed some. I bought some more to replace them."

Sohail is still smiling coldly at her, "Not a lot of use to me when I had nothing to offer the executives who dropped by late Friday evening."

Exasperated, but knowing that this latest confrontation is going really badly she attempts some humour, "You could 'ave told them you'd run out. It's popular stuff. Bullshit, bullshit. We're in PR. That's what we do, isn't it?".

She pauses, the realisation that Sohail has taken this opportunity to completely and utterly screw her hits her like a slap in the face, "But you didn't do that, did you Sohail?".

"No". With that one word, he looks positively victorious.

She's now fighting back angry tears, determined not to crack in front of these wankers, "So I'm out, am I? Well this is just bleedin' perfect. Congratulations. You've wanted me out for ages. Now you've done it. Very well done."

She pauses, still slightly incredulous that this is really happening. "Theft. Pretty fool-proof."

She gathers her papers, stands up and makes her way to the door, "Ok. I'll go. I'll go. I was gettin' a bit choked up with all the testosterone flyin' about the place. It's best I get out before I start growin' a penis."

As she slams the door, she hears one of the spineless tossers say, "Told you… Lesbian".

She grabs a few personal items from her desk, desperately blinking back her tears and heads towards the lift. She steps into the full lift and nervously tugs at her earring, willing the doors to quickly close and take her away from the car-crash of a situation she's just experienced. She hardly even registers the tall man stood beside her, who says "Whoops" and bends down to pick up her earring which has fallen to the floor. She glances at him, too distracted to properly look and utters a quick, "thank you" before rushing out of the lift, out of the building and onto the street finally allowing her hot, angry tears to fall.

A few minutes later, after pulling herself together enough to stop crying, she's on autopilot retracing her route from earlier and heading for the tube station to take herself home, back to Dylan. She completely forgets about needing to pay Qaseem for her morning cuppa.

 **Molly misses the train**

Molly hurries down the steps towards the platform just as a District Line train is pulling in. Desperate to get home, she runs towards the train but isn't quick enough to slip through the doors and into the carriage. She lets out a frustrated sigh and can't believe her shittin' bad luck when an announcement informs her that the District Line is now suspended. She stares at the empty track as though willing a train to come along and reluctantly drags herself back up the stairs to the street.

She spends the next ten minutes trying to hail a taxi, along with everyone else who has just come out of the station. Finally, she's successful but as she goes to open the door she is shoved roughly from behind as some total git tries to grab her handbag. She manages to keep hold of her bag but in the scuffle, loses her balance hitting her head as she falls to the ground.

The cabbie is out of his taxi in a flash and at her side, "You all right, luv? Oh, it's a bit of a nasty cut."

She grimaces at this further bit of shittin' bad luck, touches her head, which is starting to throb, is slightly horrified at the amount of blood on her hands and mumbles, "Might gonna need a couple of stitches".

The taxi driver helps her up and bundles her into the taxi, "Don't worry luv, I'll take you to St Thomas', no charge."

As she sits in the back of the cab she wonders if this day could actually get any worse.

 **Molly catches the train**

She hurries down the steps towards the platform just as a District Line train is pulling in. Desperate to get home, she does something that she never normally does, and launches herself at the closing doors, wrestling with the doors and managing to push herself into the carriage. Feeling a little bit flustered she takes a seat, breathes a huge sigh and takes out her dog-eared copy of Dylan Thomas' "Under Milk Wood", hoping to find some calm and solace in her nut.

She is startled to hear a male voice say her favourite quote, "We are not wholly bad or good, who live our lives under Milk Wood".

She looks up and into the eyes of a devastatingly handsome man sat on the opposite side of the carriage. She has a fleeting feeling that she has seen him somewhere before.

Before she can come up with any response, he's speaking to her again, "Funny how nobody talks on the tube, isn't it? I rarely catch the tube myself, or lifts. Confined spaces, everybody shuts down. Why is that? Perhaps we think everybody on the tube is potential psychopath so we close down and pretend to read a book or something."

She takes in the man talking to her. As well as being flippin' good-looking, he has a right posh accent. She doubts very much he is a psychopath, but suspects that he might be a bit cocky and arrogant looking and sounding like he does. In her current mood, she has no desire to get talking to him, she's had her fill of men today. "Look, I don't think you're a psychopath, I just wanna read me book."

He smiles and nods at her, "I understand. I apologise."

It is less than 20 seconds before he is talking to her again, "Have we met before? You seem familiar".

Molly looks at him with her best withering, shut the fuck-up look, "I don't think so mate."

He furrows his brow, as though lost in concentration. Suddenly he has what can only be described as a shit-eating grin on his face as he remembers, "Yes. Yes, you were in the lift just now. You dropped your earring, I picked it up."

Now feeling slightly rude, she relents a bit, "Oh yeah. You did. Thank you."

"Pleasure." Pressing on, now that he has her attention again, "So do you work there?"

Having temporarily forgot the reason she is sat on the tube heading home in the middle of the day, his question brings her back to the miserable reality with a bump. She answers with a despondent, "I did do, but I've just been fired, ok?

The grin instantly disappears from his face and he seems genuinely upset for her, "Oh, that's bad luck. I'm sorry."

She's once again feeling rude, as he is actually being rather nice to her, which just makes her feel even more distraught, "It's ok, you didn't do it. Thank you for yer concern. Thank you for pickin' up me earrin', but I just wanna read me book."

They travel on in silence. She's trying hard to concentrate on her book, but is conscious that he hasn't taken his eyes off her since they stopped talking. She knows she should feel uncomfortable under the gaze of a complete stranger, but she actually feels weirdly reassured by him.

Eventually he clears his throat to get her attention, "I get off at this stop. I'm only telling you in case you get off at this stop too. I don't want you to think I'm following you….which I'm not. I mean, I wouldn't….."

"Bleedin' hell" she thinks to herself as she realises they are indeed getting off at the same station. He gets up to leave and she considers staying on and travelling to the next station and coming back. "Get a grip, Dawesy" she tells herself as she jumps up, follows him off the train and chases behind him up the stairs cursing how long his stride is compared to hers. She shouts, almost by way of an apology, "I'm sure you're not a nutter, or a psycho or nuffink."

He stops, turns around and with a look of extreme pleasure, extends his hand towards her, "I'm Charles".

She takes his hand, giving it the briefest of shakes, "Molly". This close to him she notices he has the most amazingly beautiful dark brown eyes. Before she can stop herself, she blurts out, "I live with someone. A man. I live with a man."

He looks incredibly amused by her sudden admission, "Really? I have people I consider soul mates who don't confide in me this much. And what would he say if he knew you were walking up from the tube in broad daylight with a complete stranger?"

As he says these words she thinks about Dylan, who doesn't deserve this sort of behaviour from his girlfriend, "He'd probably have a Julius Caesar".

Sensing that the mood has changed again, Charles turns to leave, "It was nice to meet you, Molly. Sorry about your job. Really. I hope Lady Luck smiles on you soon."


	2. Chapter 2

**Thank you so much for the kind reviews of chapter 1. Your comments and feedback mean a lot, so please keep them coming…. onto chapter 2**

 **Dylan is a cheating wanker**

Dylan groans and pulls the duvet over his head. How the hell has he got himself into this fuck-up of a situation? He has just kissed goodbye to his girlfriend of three years, the girlfriend he has just made love to inadvertently making her late for work, the girlfriend who he has been cheating on with his ex, Marie Lane, for the last six months.

He loves Molly. Everybody loves Molly. She is kind, loyal, trusting and has a wicked, feisty sense of humour. She is also gorgeous, with the kind of raw beauty that turns heads and makes him swagger and puff out his chest when they're out together, knowing that she is his. She is perfectly pint sized, barely more than five-foot tall, which suits him just fine as he's not the tallest of men. She has beautiful long blonde hair, well she isn't a natural blonde, but she dyes her hair because he told her early in their relationship that he prefers blondes. She is also a born and bred Cockney and has what she would call "quite a gob on her" which adds to her natural, unaffected charm. Although she appears confident to most people, she is actually surprisingly lacking in confidence, the product of a difficult childhood growing up the eldest of six children in a chaotic, dysfunctional family in East Ham with a shit of an alcoholic father. He's ashamed to admit it, but he plays on this lack of confidence at times to suit his own needs.

Molly has been diligently supporting him, both emotionally and financially as he struggles with writing what he has taken to calling his "difficult" second book. Well, writing is stretching it. The truth is that he hasn't actually written anything since Marie came back on the scene. He feels pretty guilty that whilst Molly has been working ridiculously hard at the agency to pay their rent and bills, in a job he knows she has found increasingly tough since Geddings fucked off to New York, he has been shagging Marie and spending his book advance on fancy hotel rooms and expensive champagne.

Molly had been so excited when Geddings had asked her to move to New York. He knows that it would have been an amazing career move for her and she had been so full of plans for them both to move out there and experience life in the US for a few years. But, it was at the time that Marie had just returned from working in New York herself, their affair was just beginning and he was enjoying reacquainting himself with her. Although he knew it was going to make his life complicated, he wasn't sure how things were going to work out with Marie and he knew he wasn't ready to call time on him and Molly, so he'd begged her to not take the job and to stay in London with him. He knew it was a shitty and selfish thing to do, he could have as easily written his book in New York as London but he had another reason for doing it. He'd always been unreasonably jealous of Molly and Geddings' easy and close friendship and frankly persuading her to stay was too much of a good opportunity to put some distance between the two of them. She'd been desperately disappointed at the time, but ultimately, she had chosen him and stayed in London as he knew she would.

Now, he's bitterly regretting these decisions and completely unsure how to extract himself from the car-crash situation which is entirely of his own doing. Not only has he spent all his money trying to satisfy Marie and her high maintenance tastes, but he's remembered all too late why they broke up in the first place. She is suffocatingly controlling, extremely manipulative and prone to explosive temper tantrums if things don't go her own way. If anything, two and half years working at a top New York law firm has made her one thousand times worse than she was before. On the other hand, Marie is stunningly good looking, but unlike Molly, she knows it and uses it to get her own way time and time again. She is also filthy in bed which at first was a huge turn on, compared to the tender love making he has always enjoyed with Molly, but now her insatiable antics leave him mostly feeling used and abused after their frequent lunch-time sex sessions.

Shit, he looks at the clock and realises Marie will be here soon. He is honestly now terrified of her and has been trying to figure out a way to finish it with her without her going ballistic. He doesn't trust her to not tell Molly what has been going on and he definitely can't financially afford for that to happen. He also knows it will break Molly's heart and shatter her confidence to find out that he has been cheating on her all this time.

Right, he needs to focus on having a quick shower and changing the bedding because he knows that Marie will know, exactly what he was doing this morning with Molly if he doesn't. Fuck, he is such a cheating wanker. He can't believe that he has let this affair go so far that he is now reduced to having sordid sex with Marie in his and Molly's bed.

The doorbell rings and he answers the door to find Marie, dressed in a red knee length coat. As she steps into the house, before he has time to even close the front door, she undoes the belt to reveal she is completely naked underneath and drops the coat to the floor with a wicked smile. He panics, quickly pushing her inside and checking whether any of the neighbours have seen her enter the house. "Christ Marie, you're supposed to be incognito."

She clearly doesn't give a damn about who might have seen her, "Fuck incognito Dylan. Come here." Before he can resist she is pushing him against the wall, seducing him and despite his self-loathing and best intentions, he is powerless to resist. They eventually make it up to bedroom and she's straddling him, shrieking his name as she climaxes.

 **Molly misses the train**

Dylan is in the shower when he hears Molly shouting his name. Fuck, what's she doing back this early? "Molls? Is that you?" Fuck, it can't be later than 4pm, he wasn't expecting her back for hours.

He hears her joking response, "No, it's yer bit of stuff. Monday…. shag day, remember?

Now in a blind panic because he can't remember what state the bedroom is in after Marie's visit he quickly finishes his shower and rushes into the bedroom just as she enters.

She looks slightly surprised at the dishevelled state of the bed, "Have you just got up, you lazy git?

He follows her eyes towards the bed. In an attempt to hide the evidence of all the pillows pushed up against the wall and the two obvious indents in the mattress, he jumps athletically onto the bed, and starts stuttering a garbled story "No, uh….? Well, I, uh… I didn't sleep that well last night. And then, you know when you left…. I kind of…. I went into a really… a really, really deep, deep, deep, sleep. In fact, I think I might be coming down with something….."

He knows this explanation sounds like complete bullshit and that he needs to change the track of the conversation quickly, "Anyway, enough about me, what are you doing home at this time of the….." His voice trails off as he actually looks at her properly for the first time since she entered the room. He realises she looks pale and as though she has been crying. She also has a large dressing on her forehead.

He gets up and takes her in his arms, and guides her to the edge of the bed, "Oh shit, what happened to you, Molls?"

She looks thoroughly miserable, but as usual attempts to use some humour to hide her feelings, "Well, it depends… which story do you want first?"

He's confused, and merely shrugs encouraging her to continue, bringing her in close for a cuddle, whilst surreptitiously surveying the rest of the room for further evidence of Marie's visit. Fuck, he notices that there is a champagne bottle and two glasses on the dressing table.

She relaxes into his arms, sniffing back more tears, "Well, I got mugged…missed a train…and got sacked, only not in that order. Though it wasn't an actual muggin', it was only an attempted muggin' accordin' to the police because they didn't actually get my 'andbag. I got mugged because I missed the train. The bastards sacked me for takin' those bottles of vodka for me party."

He knows he needs to get her out of the bedroom before she notices the champagne bottle and glasses. He stands up and starts manoeuvring her towards the bathroom, "Whoa, slow down Molls, relax… you're in shock, darling, ok? How about I run you a nice bath and then I'm going to take you out to the pub and get you alarmingly out of your head on vodka and coke, and then when you've sung all your favourite Elton John songs at the top of your voice and got us slung out of the pub, we'll go and have a curry, which you can then puke all over the pristine doorstep of Major Beck next door, and I'll help you."

As he runs the bath, she starts to take her clothes off. She smiles weakly at him and sounds immensely grateful as she says, "I love you Dylan Smith. I just can't help thinking if I 'ad caught that train, it would never 'ave happened. I'd 'ave been home ages ago."

He lets out an involuntary shudder at that thought and says a secret thank you to Lady Luck who was obviously smiling down on him this afternoon. This was too close a call, he is resolved to finish the affair with Marie as soon as possible.

 **Molly catches the train**

Dylan is about to come when he hears Molly shouting his name from just outside the bedroom door. "F-f-f-fuck. Marie, stop."

Molly walks into the bedroom and stops dead in her tracks. She has a look of complete and utter disappointment on her face. She's taking her time, carefully considering the scene in front of her. She shakes her head in total disbelief before finally speaking, "You really shouldn't stop like that Dylan. Set a woman back three days doin' a thing like that. Who is she?"

He looks at her in utter horror at the coolness of her words, and splutters, "She is Marie."

Molly nods, taking in this new information, "Well, I've 'ad a dreadful day. I got sacked. So did you, it would seem….. cuppa tea?"

He's seriously unnerved at how this conversation is going, barely managing to squeak out a lame "That'd be nice".

The next thing he knows Molly has grabbed an empty champagne bottle from the dresser and is throwing it at him and Marie, although he somehow manages to deflect it using the duvet as a shield. Molly's earlier calm and composure appears to have evaporated, she is now screaming, "You bastard! You bastard! You useless, shaggin' bastard! I come home and catch you up to yer nuts in Lady-shaggin'-Godiva! I am workin' all hours to support you while you are supposedly writin' your soddin' "difficult" second book."

She picks up two cut-glass champagne glasses and hurls one of them at the bedroom wall. "How long, huh? Do you love her? Nah, don't tell me. I'm not interested." She throws the second champagne glass and pauses, "Actually, do tell me. I am interested. I'm only askin' because I need to know exactly how big a mug I am."

Before he can say anything further Molly has fled the room. He hears her running down the stairs and out of the house, slamming the front door behind her.

He is shaking and in complete shock at what has just happened. He looks at Marie, who doesn't seem at all perturbed by events and is in-fact sat smirking like the proverbial cat who got the cream. The realisation that he has well and truly fucked-up the best thing in his miserable life hits him like a tonne of bricks.


	3. Chapter 3

**Thank you for your comments on the first couple of chapters. I have a reasonable plan of how this story is going to unfold (but always happy to hear your suggestions too!), but I haven't actually written much of it yet so I expect it may be a couple of days between updates. Stay with me and please continue with the reviews!**

 **Charles is having a good day**

As he leaves the office, heading towards the tube, Charles James reflects that he is in an exceedingly good mood.

His day started with an early but energising 10k run around Battersea Park. A love of early morning PT sessions being a hangover from his days as a Captain in the British Army. He's been out for five years since his father's untimely death from a heart attack and has been living in London, successfully managing CJ Capital Partners, his family's considerable private equity fund.

On the way to the office, he enjoyed an espresso and chat with his good friend Qaseem. He's known Qaseem since meeting him on tour in Afghanistan, when Qaseem worked as an interpreter for Charles' platoon and they had struck up a friendship over a shared love of English Literature. Charles had studied English at Bath University before joining the army and Qaseem had been a Professor of English Literature at Kabul University before the Taliban killed his wife and daughter. After drawdown, Qaseem had decided to come to England to start a new life and Charles had financially helped him set up his little café business. Although Qaseem has vowed to repay Charles for his support, Charles has no intention of ever calling-in that particular debt, preferring to stop by for an espresso or two most mornings because he's not a fully functioning human until he's had his first coffee of the day.

He's spoken to his beloved mother, who sounded much brighter than she has in weeks. Since receiving the dreaded news six months ago that her cancer is back, she has now decided against any further treatment. Despite only having a few months left, she's finally found a peace which he hasn't seen in the years since his father's death. Although his heart is filled with sadness that she will soon leave him, he's accepted her decision and is focussed on making sure her last few months are as happy and stress-free as possible.

Then, when he had eventually got to the office, the first meeting of the day saw him close a significant deal which had been dragging on for the last few weeks. He's constantly surprised just how much of a buzz he gets from his work, as he never believed in his Army days that he was cut out for sitting behind a desk. It turns out that his well-developed listening skills, natural authority and strong leadership tendencies, together with a keen tactical mind, excellent attention to detail and an ability to think quickly in stressful situations are equally useful in the boardroom as they were in the Army. Admittedly, he doesn't actually spend that much time sitting behind a desk, preferring to get out of his office and talk to the people he works with rather than hiding behind emails and reports. He has developed quite a reputation for holding "standing meetings" which are not dissimilar to the mission ops briefings from his previous life.

He's just arranged to meet up later with his best friend Elvis Harte, recently retired from the Army, who is about to venture into an equally perilous career following in his own family business' footsteps - launching a new chain of trendy Italian bistros. His friendship with Elvis dates from boarding school and although they went to different universities, they were at Sandhurst at the same time and served together on several occasions although Charles went down the infantry route with Elvis pursuing his dream of joining Special Forces. It is fair to say that they have got into a fair few scrapes together over the years and he is looking forward to hearing all about Elvis' latest exploits and his plans for the new restaurants.

He's even done his good deed for the day by picking up a dropped earring for a beautiful woman in the lift as he left the office early, having granted himself the rest of the day off for some much needed R&R.

Yes, he's in an exceedingly good mood. Lady Luck is definitely smiling down on him today.

 **Molly misses the train**

Elvis has insisted on some sort of random pub/restaurant crawl, ostensibly to check out the local Italian competition, which has so far involved quite a few peroni's, limoncello shots and an assortment of antipasto in four different places. Charles is having a great time and is currently in stitches as Elvis is recounting his latest failed love conquest which was abruptly curtailed when the poor girl's father called the police as Elvis attempted to shimmy up the drainpipe of the family home to enter the girl's bedroom in the middle of the night.

When Elvis excuses himself to check out the facilities, Charles glances around the room and notes a loved-up couple getting rip-roaringly drunk together at the end of the bar. He briefly thinks the woman looks familiar but is distracted from further thought by Elvis coming back and announcing it is time for the next stop on their adventure. He settles the bill and they leave.

 **Molly catches the train**

As soon as they enter the latest place on Elvis' crazy Italian pub/restaurant crawl, Charles notices Molly, the lovely but slightly offish woman from earlier, sat on her own at the end of the bar knocking back drinks at rate which would put a squaddie to shame. Actually, she doesn't look quite so lovely at this particular moment, being decidedly worse for wear.

He's finding it difficult to concentrate on what Elvis is saying and can't take his eyes off her, just like earlier on the tube. Although they only met briefly and their conversation was mostly painfully awkward, he's caught himself thinking about her quite a few times during the course of the afternoon. He's still not entirely sure what made him talk to her then, as he's never before just struck up a conversation with a random stranger, beautiful woman with gorgeous green eyes or not, on a bloody tube train.

Elvis finally realises that his latest story is falling on deaf ears, "Earth to Charlie boy. Earth to Charlie boy."

"Sorry mate. Bit distracted." He's more than a tad curious to know why she is drowning her sorrows alone. Emboldened by rather too much peroni and limoncello he decides to find out why. "Elvis mate. Can you excuse me for a minute?"

There is no denying the look of surprise on Elvis' face as he strides off.

As he approaches her, he almost loses his nerve as it occurs to him that in her current state she probably won't even recognise him, "Molly! Hello!"

She looks at him with a questioning expression as he reminds her, "Charles…. Rather annoying bloke on the tube earlier?"

He's disappointed that the look she now gives him is one of vague indifference, "Oh, yeah. Hi."

He indicates the empty glasses lined up in front of her, "You alright?"

Her reply is too quick to be truthful and has a distinctly defensive edge to it, "Yeah, why wouldn't I be?"

He feels a bit hurt by her hostility but pushes on, "It's only a job. You'll get another one."

She doesn't bother responding to this, just lets out a derisive snort and rolls her eyes.

Although she hasn't yet said so, her body language is telling him to fuck-off and leave her alone, but he can't seem to let it go, "Shit. It's something else, isn't it? Sometimes it helps to just say whatever it is out loud."

As quick as a shot she retorts, "It also 'elps if people mind their own business and leave you alone."

He finally admits defeat and is turning to go back to Elvis when he hears her quietly say "When I left you at the tube earlier, I went 'ome and found my boyfriend….. in bed with another woman."

He turns back towards her and feels a huge urge to wrap her in him arms, give her massive cuddle and take away the pain she is obviously feeling. Of course, he doesn't do anything of the sort, just offers her apologetic words, "She hit. I'm sorry, Molly."

She shrugs her shoulders and lets out a weary sigh, "It's ok. You weren't to know."

Frankly, he's astounded that any man would cheat on her, "What a complete and utter cockwomble."

Suddenly her entire face has lit up in an amused smirk, "Cockwomble?"

He's happy that she seems to have momentarily forgotten her sadness and he's pleased that he's been able to bring a smile onto her beautiful face. He realises that humour might be a good way to cheer her up, "Look, if it makes you feel any better, you see that bloke over there? Not only does he own a set of crocodile-skin luggage, but his favourite TV programme is Baywatch and his name is Elvis. So, you see, there is always someone sadder than you."

She's still smiling and for some inexplicable reason he feels compelled to find out more about the man who has caused her upset, "Do you love him?"

Her smile starts to fade and immediately he is cursing himself for bringing up the bloody boyfriend. He is ridiculously relieved when she giggles, "Nah, I could never love a Baywatch fan."

He laughs at her banter, "Hey, you did a joke in the midst of your turbulent emotional state. That's very positive. Listen, if you decide you want company, we're over there, ok."

She smiles and nods at him, but makes no effort to get up.

He smiles back, holding her in his gaze, "I'm really sorry Molly."

As he walks back to Elvis it is obvious that his friend has been watching this entire encounter in wonder and amusement.

"Charlie, you dark horse. Who is she? How do you know her? And mostly importantly why the hell are you back here and not still talking to her?"

He knows that his piss-taking friend is going to have a field day on this, "It's not what you think Elvis. She's Molly. I met her today, first in a lift and then again on a tube train. She's just discovered her boyfriend shagging someone else in their bed. Understandably she wants to be alone, rather than being chatted up by some random stranger."

"So you were trying to chat her up then?"

"Elvis."

"Yes Charlie."

"Shut the fuck up and get another round in."


	4. Chapter 4

**Jackie comes to the rescue**

Jackie Aston is sat in her flat enjoying a quiet night in with a glass of wine, pizza and a film. She's very happy living alone but does sometimes miss the constant company of her ex-flatmate and best friend Molly Dawes. They met 15 years ago when she first moved to London as a student doctor and have been inseparable ever since. A lesser friendship might have been damaged when Molly decided to move in with Dylan eighteen months ago, but not theirs. Despite coming from very different backgrounds and having different personalities, they have always complemented each other perfectly.

Jackie found growing up in rural Yorkshire, in a loving but fairly quiet family, stiflingly boring and so moved to London to study medicine as soon as she had the chance at the tender age of 18 and hasn't looked back since. Being what could possibly be described as a late bloomer, she has had no problem pulling pretty much any man she has set her sights on over the last few years. But unlike Molly, she's all about the chase and has not had any desire to settle down with any of the men she's dated. She's independent, self-assured and confident; completely happy focussing on her career and making the most of enjoying herself for now. She is naturally sarcastic and sceptical, whereas Molly is sometimes too nice and trusting, which has been known to get her into trouble in the past. They both highly value loyalty and friendship over everything else and just want the best for each other in love and life.

 **Molly misses the train**

Jackie's phone pings with a text message.

 _[ Hi Jac – Shit day. Got fired, then got (almost) mugged. Long story. D helping me drown sorrows, but really need tea and sympathy. R U working tomorrow? M x ]_

 _[ Bloody hell Molly Dawes, you never look for trouble but trouble just seems to find you. On late shift tomorrow – see you about midday? J x ]_

 _[ It ain't like that Jac. ;-) See you 2moro. M x ]_

 _[ See you tomorrow. I'll have the tea, tissues, chocolate, coca cola, salt & vinegar crisps and paracetamol ready. J x ]_

 _[ My hero. M x ]_

 **Molly catches the train**

Jackie's phone pings with a text message.

 _[ Hi Jac – Having a v shit day. Long story. Drowning sorrows. D is a wanker. If he comes looking for me tell him to FO. M x ]_

As she's typing her response, she is interrupted by a persistent ringing of the doorbell. She opens to door to find a very agitated Dylan. She leans on the doorframe, not inviting him in, "She's not here Dylan."

He's trying to look over her shoulder into the hallway, for Molly's coat hanging on the banister or her discarded shoes, for any sign of her. "Jackie, you're her best friend. Where else would she be?"

He doesn't sound like he believes her. She indicates with her arm, "Come search the place if you want. She's not here."

He looks crestfallen at the realisation that Molly really isn't here and she feels a tiny bit sorry for him, "What is it you've done, anyway. Can't be that nice if she's walked out."

He looks incredibly guilty and panicky at the same time. This tells her all she needs to know. The bastard has done something really shitty this time.

"Erm… look, if she comes here, just let me know or get her to ring me or something. That's all I ask."

She feels anger rising on behalf her best friend, and she knows she has no intention of helping him, "She did text in case you came around looking for her. Gave me a message for you."

The wanker looks pitifully hopeful, "Oh…"

"Yes, let me check what it said."

She makes a show of getting her phone out and looking at the screen, taking her time and enjoying his obvious discomfort.

"Oh yes….. it was Fuck Off Dylan."

She slams the door in his astonished face.

She's had enough of Dylan Smith screwing up her best friend's life. She's lost count of the tears Molly has shed over the last few months as he's withdrawn his affections and played on her deepest fears and insecurities. She's not seen her friend's self-confidence this low since those early days of their friendship when Molly was first stepping away from her family and the toxic influence of her father.

She can't stand how Molly has lost so much of her natural feistiness and sparkle, becoming almost down-trodden in her relationship with Dylan.

Poor Molly has been slogging away at that bloody job to pay the bills, meanwhile Dylan has been sponging off her for months whilst he writes the fabled "difficult" second book. There's been no sign of the advance she knows he would have got after the success of his first novel. He has been so self-absorbed recently, supposedly writing, but clearly actually doing something else with his time. She knows that Molly hasn't felt able to tell him just how hard she has been finding the job since the lovely Matt left, or just how appallingly badly the guys in the office have been treating her. The old Molly would never have put up with their macho, sexist behaviour or Dylan's selfishness.

She could have happily wrung Dylan's neck when he begged Molly to stay in London rather than take the job in New York. Whilst she would have been very sad to see her friend go, she knows it would have been an amazing opportunity for Molly and feels her friend gave up another part of herself when she decided to stay.

She resolves to do everything in her power to stop Dylan Smith from getting back into Molly's life this time.

Picking up her phone, she texts Molly.

 _[ Where are you? I'm coming to get you. x ]_

She can tell straight away that Molly is in a pretty bad state. She's sat alone at the end of the bar with an impressive line of empty glasses in front her. She's swaying drunkenly and looks in danger of falling off the bar stool at any moment.

She gently puts her arm around Molly, "Dylan came looking for you. Is it what I think?"

Molly looks at her, but is struggling to focus and her words are distinctly slurred, "It depends. Is what you think that I walked in on him shaggin' some slapper called Marie in me bed, and I walked out?"

She shakes her head and gives a resigned sigh, "Pretty much"

Molly puts her head on the bar in defeat, "Then yes."

She gives Molly a massive hug, "Oh Molly. Right, let's get you home."

She attempts to haul her friend to her feet, but despite being quite a bit taller than Molly, she is seriously struggling as Molly has become a dead weight and seems incapable of standing on her own. Suddenly there is a tall, handsome and incredibly well-spoken man at her side, offering to help.

Molly is slurring again, "Charles. This is Jac. Jac. This is Charles. I don't know the rest of his name."

Charles doesn't seem particularly surprised or phased by the situation, but simply introduces himself, "Charles James, pleased to meet you."

She becomes aware of another man joining them, as Charles continues, "And this is my friend, Elvis Harte."

Whereas Charles is handsome in a posh public school boy way, this other man Elvis is devastatingly good looking in more of a cheeky, boy next door kind of way and is far more her type. She temporarily forgets Molly as she smiles broadly at Elvis, looks him deeply in the eyes and introduces herself, "Jackie, but everyone calls me Jac."

She is brought back to reality by Molly slurring again, "Elvis' favourite TV programme is Baywatch."

Returning to the task in hand, she accepts Charles' offer of help and he swiftly picks up Molly in his arms and starts striding towards the door. Molly is finding this incredibly funny and in true drunken Molly Dawes style has now started singing 'Don't go breaking my heart', one of her beloved Elton John songs very loudly and very tunelessly.

Elvis seems to be finding the whole situation extremely amusing and as they all make it outside loudly asks, "Hands up if you drank too much?"

Molly breaks from her singing, indignantly replying "I'm not as drunk as thinkle peep I am."

She can't help laughing very loudly when Elvis jokes, "Put a wick in her mouth, and she'd burn for a fortnight."

Charles has now taken charge of the whole situation and has already flagged down a taxi and gently put Molly onto the back seat and is standing, like a true gentleman holding the door open for her. Reluctantly she gets into the front, gives the driver her address, thanks Charles for his help, gives Elvis a parting smile and a wink, and closes the door.


	5. Chapter 5

**Thank you for your reviews and comments. I hope you're enjoying the direction of the story and the telling from different points of view. We're back to Molly for this chapter.**

 **Molly is moving forward**

 **Molly misses the train**

Molly slams closed the lid of her laptop in frustration, puts her head in her hands and groans. It's been nine days since she was fired and she is having no success at all finding a new role, "There are no PR jobs. I might gonna need to look for some part-time work, Dylan".

He doesn't look up from his phone, "Sounds good Molls. Do you some good to get back out there".

In theory, having the opportunity to spend some time with Dylan should be great, but he's hardly been around and keeps disappearing off to the library to do research for his sodding book. When he is at home, he's distracted and spends a lot of time on his mobile phone.

She can't quite put her finger on it, but there was something odd about his behaviour that day she got fired, almost mugged, and came home early. She's got a nagging feeling that he's up to something and that he wants her out of the way and back to work as soon as possible. On the other hand, sitting around the house feeling sorry for herself is doing her nut in and she is probably making something out of nothing. She needs to pull herself together and get on with things, "Right, I'm going out for a run."

Again, he doesn't look up from his phone, and lets out what can best be described as a disinterested grunt in acknowledgement.

She leaves the house and instinctively starts running her morning commuting route. She used to love starting her day with this run which takes in the Thames path, the edge of Battersea Park before heading up to the West End, but realizes that she hasn't been doing it too much in the last few months, being just another thing that has suffered as her job got difficult. She finds herself thinking back to that awful morning and with a start remembers that in her haste to get home that day she never went back to pay Qaseem for her morning cuppa. Feeling awful, she decides to drop by on her run and settle her debt.

Thirty minutes later she's stood outside the café catching her breath and incredulously looking at a sign advertising a part-time position. As she enters the café, the door is held open for her by a departing customer and she ducks in just as the tall man bids goodbye to Qaseem.

Qaseem's face lights up as he sees Molly, "My dearest Molly. Where've you been? I've been so worried about you?"

"I am so sorry Qaseem. I got fired and forgot to come and pay you for me mornin' cuppa. I 'ave the money 'ere now."

Qaseem gestures her to sit down with him, "Oh Molly. They were very foolish to fire you. Their loss. Please keep your money. I'm just so pleased you're ok."

"Thank you Qaseem. Erm, I see yer advertisin' a job…."

Qaseem looks and sounds surprised, "Yes, but it is just a few hours a day for someone to make and deliver sandwiches to the local offices. You are destined for greater things than my little cafe."

She knows it is a big ask and can hear the desperation in her voice as she pleads, "Thanks, but would you consider me for the job? Please Qaseem. I promise I'll work really 'ard. I'd really appreciate the opportunity. I really need to get back workin'."

Qaseem gives her a kindly smile, "Ok Molly. But on one condition."

"Yes, Qaseem, anythin'."

"Only if you promise me you'll continue looking for another PR job."

She's can't quite believe that he has not only offered her a job, but is also encouraging her to keep looking for her next role, "Thank you Qaseem. You're a gent. And there isn't many of us left, as me granddad said."

By the time she leaves the cafe, she's feeling much more positive than she has in days. She starts running home and instead of being lost in her thoughts, she's enjoying the sights and sounds of London life and feeling grateful for what she has.

She's almost home when she notices that one of her once-favourite restaurants has closed down and is undergoing a fairly major refit. The sign in the window indicates a new Italian bistro will soon be opening and that they're hiring front of house staff. Thinking there is no time like the present she puts the contact details into her phone and sends a quick enquiry email.

 **Molly catches the train**

Molly slams closed the lid of her laptop in frustration, puts her head in her hands and groans. It's been nine days since she was fired, discovered her boyfriend was a cheating wanker and made a complete tit of herself in front of the most good-looking man she has ever met, "What am I gonna do, Jac?"

She knows this isn't the first time she has asked Jackie this question in the past few days. She is eternally grateful to her friend for taking her in, installing her in her old bedroom, feeding her chocolate and vodka in large and equal quantities and listening to her going on about Dylan bleedin' Smith. She's boring herself on the subject and suspects, completely understandably, that Jackie's patience might be starting to wear a bit thin too.

The only subject she's kept largely to herself is Charles James. She had to answer Jackie's questions the morning after about how she knew him and she needed Jackie to fill-in some of the hazier and, as it turns out, more mortifyingly embarrassing details of the night. She's not really sure what she thinks about him. She knows she found him attractive when they met on the tube and that he was kind to her, even though she was rude and stand offish. She remembers feeling reassured, not all uncomfortable, under his gaze as they travelled. When she met him again in the restaurant, she had enjoyed talking to him and he had made her laugh, even though she was rude to him again. Although she knows practically nothing about him, she's found herself day-dreaming about him quite a lot over the last few days which is completely pointless as she has no means of getting in contact. Besides, she was such a monumental fuck-up that night that she imagines he would, quite reasonably, run for the hills if he did ever see her again.

She is brought back to the present. After a short amount of thought Jackie has what looks like a triumphant smile on her face, "What you need Molly Dawes is a change of image."

This wasn't quite what she was expecting, but she's curious, "What d'ya mean?"

Jackie is still smiling, clearly feeling pleased with herself, "Do you trust me?"

Several hours later Molly is stood in the living room admiring her new hair colour in the mirror. Well technically it isn't a new colour, it is actually her natural brunette colour. She'd forgotten how much she loves it and how it brings out the green of her eyes, "Jac, I love it, thank you."

"Well you've been sitting here like suicide on a stick for a week, figured you needed something to remind yourself of who you really are."

Before she can stop herself, she's finds herself correcting Jackie, "Nine days Jac."

Jackie looks slightly exasperated, "Ok, for nine days. But bollocks to him. Cuppa?"

Jackie goes off to the kitchen whilst she sits down on the sofa, grabbing a magazine and idly flicking through to the horoscopes.

Jackie comes back into the room with two cups of tea and sits down next to her picking up her phone and checking her texts. They sit in companionable silence for a few minutes. She knows she's covering old ground, but still asks, "Why 'asn't he even called to see if I'm ok?"

Jackie is now frowning, "Or to admit he's a twat. Hello Molls, it's Dylan. I'm a twat. I love you. Please come home."

She's now annoyed at herself for bringing the conversation back to Dylan, "Oh, I don't care anyway. Bollocks to him. I'm over him."

She nods her head, in what she hopes is a convincing way, knowing that she's a shit liar, "Yeah. Totally and utterly and completely over him."

Jackie doesn't look particularly convinced, "No you're not."

"I am."

"You're not."

She tries to sound more convincing, "Jac, I'm over him."

Jackie doesn't say anything, but just looks at her with very raised eyebrows. She's feeling flustered under Jackie's scrutiny, "What d'ya mean I'm not? How d'ya know I'm not?"

Jackie doesn't sound cross, but merely adopts a tone you might use with a small child, "Well two things really. You're still counting how long you've been apart in days, hours and minutes." Jackie leans over and grabs the magazine, "But the flashing red light way of telling you're not over someone is reading their horoscope in the hope they're going to get wiped out in some freak napalming incident."

She lets out a snigger, "Smart arse."

Jackie is studying the horoscopes, "What is he?"

She's laughing now, "A wanker? Oh, an Aries."

"Aries… Aries…. Well, just goes to show how much I know…. 'With Mars in the ascendancy you will get wiped out in a freak napalming incident and Molly says bollocks to you'."

She's now pissing herself and even more grateful to her amazing friend. She literally doesn't know how she would have got through the last nine days without her love and support.

It's a little while later when the doorbell rings. She's a little surprised when Jackie makes no effort to get up and answer the door, "You go, Molly".

She's feels panic rising at the prospect of seeing Dylan, "Nah, I'm not in. You go. I'm out. You don't know where or who with. Especially who with."

The ringing is getting more insistent and Jackie is still not moving, "Quickly Molly, go on."

She's pleading now, "Please, you 'ave to. It won't be Dylan anyway."

Jackie looks smug and victorious, "So there's no big deal, is there. Off you go."

The bell rings again and she knows that she has lost this battle with Jackie. She heads off to the door chanting, "Bollocks to him. Bollocks to him. Bollocks to him. Bollocks to him."

She takes a deep breath and prepares herself to reject whatever drivel Dylan comes up with.

She opens the door and is stunned to find Charles.

He looks equally surprised, "Wow, Molly your hair looks amazing. It really suits you."

She hesitates and looks questioningly at him, puts her hand up and runs it through her hair, remembering that he has only ever known her as a blonde. He seems to misinterpret her hesitation and before she can respond, he's speaking again. "No, it does. It does. No gag. Never make a joke about women's hair, clothes or menstrual cycles. Dating 101."

She finds herself smirking at his comment and unable to resist, "Dating 101? A bit previous there, weren't you?"

He suddenly seems unsure of himself, "Shit. Sorry, that wasn't how I'd planned to start this conversation..."

He stops himself, runs his hand through his unruly brown hair, tugging at the short curls at the back of his head, takes a deep breath and starts again. "Hi Molly."

She gives him a broad smile, "Hi Charles."

He looks at her intently with his beautiful brown eyes, "I was wondering if you'd like to go out for a walk with me? Maybe get a coffee or something?"

She feels her stomach do a little flip, "Yes, I'd like that. But a teabag does me fine."

He returns her smile, "Right...Lovely."


	6. Chapter 6

**The tension is rising. You'll have to fill in the blanks with your own imagination in places as I don't think I'd be able to do 'it' justice or top what has already been written by other OG FF writers. I'm more about the story, which I hope you'll agree is moving along nicely.**

 **Charles is in trouble**

 **Molly misses the train**

Charles checks his watch and realises that if he stops at Qaseem's for a coffee this morning, he's going to be late for his eight o'clock meeting. It's never a quick stop at the café and he'd rather miss it than rush in and out and appear rude.

He feels a bit guilty as he hasn't been in much over the past few weeks but has been spending quite a lot of time with his mother helping her sort out her affairs. He's also been really busy at work and travelling a fair amount.

He's genuinely interested to hear how Qaseem's new office delivery service is going and intrigued to find out more about Qaseem's newest recruit. Qaseem does seem rather taken by this new girl, not in a romantic way but says her humour and spirit reminds him of his daughter.

He has to admit to being slightly surprised when Qaseem told him that he'd given a job to one of his former high-flying customers. He hopes this girl isn't taking advantage of Qaseem's good nature. He's sure he will get to meet her soon, but that will all have to wait for another day.

 **Molly catches the train**

Charles checks his watch for the tenth time, knocks back some wine and tell himself to relax. He thinks he knows Molly well enough now to trust that she will turn-up, but that she will almost certainly be a few minutes late no doubt with some bullshit but non-the-less entertaining excuse or story. He smiles and reminds himself that it has only been two weeks since he finally plucked up the courage to go around and see her after nine agonising days of wondering how she was doing.

Elvis might be an annoying prat at times, but he'd been quite insistent that Charles would regret not taking a chance on this woman and he was right. He's still not entirely sure how Elvis got the address in the first place, he'd just tapped his nose and muttered something about not revealing his Special Forces secrets, but he suspects it might have something to do with Molly's friend Jackie. To be honest he's not sure he wants to know as he's learnt over the years it is better to not get involved in Elvis' personal life, which has a habit of getting complicated. He shudders recalling all those years ago when he had to deliver the news to Elvis' fiancé that she was being jilted at the altar. Yes, definitely better to not get in-fucking-volved.

-x-

When they'd left Jackie's house that first day they'd walked in silence for a bit before Molly had said, "I'm not sure I should be 'ere Charles. You've been really kind and funny, and I think yer really bleedin' attractive, but I'm not in a good place. It's not fair on you."

He'd been completely taken aback by her honesty, but delighted that she found him attractive and that is sounded like she might have feelings for him too. He knew he was going to need to take things slowly with her, "Molly, listen. Sometimes we are plonked into people's lives when they just need to be cheered up and reassured and it turns out that for some reason it's your job. We don't know why. In your case, it's my job."

At this point she had put her arm through his and he'd felt electrified and emboldened by her touch, "My intentions are completely honourable. I have no desire to overstep the mark. I'm happy to wait out. Seriously."

She'd started giggling at this point and had squeezed his arm as he'd continued, "But, I'll be honest, the fact that I find you moderately attractive, just makes the job easier on my part."

She'd stopped walking and given him a mock stern look, "Only moderately attractive?"

He loved their easy banter, "A-ha! I knew you were listening. Well you know, lose the sad eyes, the droopy mouth…"

At this point she had given him a playful punch, "Oi, I could get you an upgrade."

He'd laughed loudly, "So, having firmly established the ground rules, what are you doing Friday night?"

She'd thought for a few seconds, "Probably killin' meself."

He'd laughed even louder and had shaken his head, "Lovely, what time does that finish? Would you like to have dinner with me?"

-x-

They've now been out together three times and although nothing physical has happened, he knows he's falling for Molly in a big way. He's been completely and utterly enchanted by her since he first spoke to her on the tube and that night in the restaurant. The more time he spends with her, the more his feelings for her are growing. He's never been with a woman who challenges him and makes him laugh so much. He's also hopelessly attracted to her physically and in all honesty, is finding it increasingly hard to wait out and keep his hands off her.

-x-

He checks his watch again and realises he is nervously tapping the table. He's come up with what he thinks is a great idea and can't wait to talk to her about it, but is also a tad concerned that she might think he's interfering in her life.

She bustles into the restaurant, turning heads as she does. She looks absolutely stunning this evening, not that she doesn't always look amazing to him, but tonight it seems as though she has made a special effort. The simple, but elegant, green figure hugging dress complements her eyes perfectly and is matched with a pair of killer stiletto heels. She's wearing her hair down and the glossy waves frame her beautiful face. He takes a deep breath and tries to push away the overwhelming feelings of lust taking over his body. God, he feels like a bloody teenager, not a 38 year-old ex-British Army Captain and successful businessman.

Pulling himself together, he stands up and walks towards her, giving her a quick kiss on her cheek, whispering into her ear, "You look beautiful Molly."

As quick as a flash she's deflecting his compliment, "You don't look too shabby yerself."

He leads her to their table, pulls out her seat and pours her some wine. Unusually, she's quiet and he's worried that he's stuffed things up already. He's not sure how to break the silence, and is relieved when the waiter brings over a couple of menus.

She grabs a menu and starts studying it carefully. "Charles. Are you ready to order? I'm bleedin' hank marvin'."

Shit, he has ruined it. She wants to eat and run. It's different between them this evening. Up to now they've been very relaxed around each other and their dates have been casual. Maybe this restaurant is too much, it's too formal.

He's still trying to work out how to retrieve the situation when they're once again joined by the waiter. They order their food and she excuses herself to go to the Ladies. She's been gone for a few minutes and he's beginning to get worried that perhaps she has done a runner. Feeling slightly foolish he decides to go and check on her. He's standing in the corridor outside the toilets trying to figure out what to do next when she comes out. Before he can even register what is happening, she has launched herself at him, with surprising force, pushing him against the wall and is kissing him passionately. He's responding with equal passion and then as quickly as it started, she's pulling away and heading back to the table. He takes a moment to compose himself and follows her.

She's smiling shyly at him, "I kissed you."

He's grinning at her, "Yes, I spotted that, too. You weren't going to do that."

She looks slightly sheepish, "Um, would you mind just puttin' it down to a momentary lapse of ….. concentration?

He's staring at her, desperately trying and failing to read her, "Is that what it was?"

She's smiling at him again, "Nah. I've been desperate to kiss you since….." She doesn't finish her sentence, leaving him wondering how long she has wanted to kiss him.

Once again, he's disarmed by her honesty. He feels compelled to explain his feelings, "I don't want to be a confusion in your life, Molly. I don't truly. But something's happened to me since I've met you…. Something that I wasn't expecting, and I don't really….. ". Shit, for someone who is usually so good with words, he's aware that he's garbling. "Well, well, I wasn't expecting this. Shit, repetition of expecting. I must buy a thesaurus. Anyway, I….."

She leans over and whispers in his ear, "Shut the fuck up Charles" and kisses him again. This time it is gentle and silencing.

They are interrupted by the waiter bringing over their starters and settle back into easy, safe conversation, sneaking glances at each other as they eat and chat.

-x-

They've finished their main courses when he remembers his great idea. He's not so sure whether to bring it up now or not, but encouraged by how well they are getting on again, decides to risk it, "Molly, I've been thinking."

She looks mischievously at him, "Oh dear Charles, that does sound dangerous."

"So, you know Elvis is opening his first restaurant in four weeks… well, he's completely disorganised. I was wondering if you might be able to help him with his PR?"

If she's phased by the idea she doesn't show it, "Well, I could come and take a look. I can't promise much, but I'd be 'appy to 'elp in any way I can. I think I might gonna owe him….."

"Well he could be your first client."

She looks a bit confused, "What d'ya mean, first client?"

"Of your PR company."

She scoffs at this idea, "Oh yeah, I'm just gonna set up my own PR company!"

He's expecting this reaction and has planned what he's going to say, "Yes, well, why not? You've got the experience, the know-how, the contacts. Do you want to spend the rest of your life working for other people? Hey, what's the worst that could possibly happen?"

She snorts and rolls her eyes, "I could fail miserably and look like a complete tosser."

"Exactly, so what is there to worry about?" He extends his arm across the table and picks up her hand and gives it a gentle kiss. He laces his fingers with hers and is stroking her knuckles, looking intently into her eyes, "Molly, I want you to be brilliant."

-x-

It's later and they've left the restaurant and are walking arm in arm along Chelsea Embankment. She stops in view of Albert Bridge, "I love this bridge. Me great-grandfather 'elped build it. I often stand on it when I wanna…."

He puts his arms around her and pulls her in close, jokingly whispering, "When you wanna build a bridge?"

She looks at him seriously, slipping her arms around him, changing the mood, "I've had a really nice time tonight, Charles."

He pauses, cupping her face in his hands and tilting her head upwards, "Ditto". Shit, he thinks, where the bloody hell did 'ditto' come from. She's not going to let him off this one.

She pulls back and looks at him incredulously, "Ditto? Bleeding ditto?! I was expectin' somethin' a bit more romantic than ditto."

"Sorry." He pulls her back towards him and simultaneously this time, they kiss. Gently at first, mouths and tongues exploring each other, becoming more urgent and passionate as they forget where they are.

Eventually he pulls away, breathless and struggling for composure, "My houseboat is close. I live alone, there's no flatmate."

She throws her head back and laughs. He's looking at her questioningly, "What's funny? There is nothing remotely bloody funny about that."

She's teasing him now, "It's just the way you said it, like you were desperate to lure me back."

"Well, did it work?"

-x-

He wakes before her the following morning, early waking being a legacy of his Army days. He doesn't get up but instead is watching her sleep, enjoying the sensation of having her naked and cuddled tightly into him. It feels so right having her here in his bed, by his side.

She starts to stir and he can't resist placing a few light kisses on the top of her head and stroking her hair, "Morning."

She tightens her hold of him, molding her body even closer to his and murmurs a sleeping, "Mornin' yerself."

He's hardening in response to her contact, "Christ Molly. What are you doing to me?"

She doesn't answer, but takes control of the situation and he is lost to her.

-x-

Much later, they're eating breakfast, "Well Molly, last night and this morning was a pretty major lapse in concentration."

She smiles at him coyly, "What can I say?... I'm sorry?"

He doesn't think she looks the least bit sorry, "I hope you're not sorry. It was… you were… fucking awesome."

She's giggling now, "Ditto Charles, bleedin' ditto."


	7. Chapter 7

**Apologies for the delay in posting this chapter. What sort of idiot decides to start writing a new story in early December?! Am finding it quite brain taxing to keep the two different paths going and it is not something I can write in a snatched couple of minutes in between writing Christmas cards, remembering to attend the endless end of term activities, panicking about the lack of progress I've made on present buying and eating mince pies. As ever, I would love to hear your comments on the chapter.**

 **Dylan realises his mistake**

 **Molly misses the train**

Dylan is panicking, trying to get his breathing under control as he dials Marie's number. He's acutely aware that he should have met her at the hotel half an hour ago and she is going to be furious with him.

Although he vowed to himself weeks ago to finish the affair with Marie after Molly nearly discovered them together, he's just not managed to do it. In fact, he's actually managed to make his life even more complicated because in a moment of madness when Marie was doing something to him that would have made him sell his own grandmother, he stupidly told her that he's going to leave Molly just as soon as she's back on her feet. He's finding Marie more and more demanding, and frankly the whole situation of being in a relationship with two women at the same time is utterly exhausting.

He's also ashamed of what a complete and utter bastard he is being to Molly. Once again, she's working herself into the ground to pay their bills and he is contributing absolutely nothing to her either financially or emotionally. She's already exhausted from working daytimes at the café, preparing for and attending PR job interviews and she'll soon be working evenings as well in a new Italian restaurant that's opening in a few days.

He's suspected that Molly has been getting suspicious of his library and mobile phone habits, indeed she's challenged him a few times over the last few weeks, but today he is certain that she knows something is not right. The problem is that he doesn't know what to do next or how to extract himself from the Marie situation.

The call is connected and the irritation is loud and clear in Marie's clipped greeting, "Where are you Dylan?"

"At the library. She followed me."

"What do you mean you are at the library? Who followed you?"

He can tell from her tone that she is not going make this easy for him, "I said I was going to the library and Molly followed me. So, I've come to the library."

Marie's increasing rage is obvious from her voice, "Oh for god's sake. Get yourself here now. I'm lying here in my new expensive underwear waiting for you."

He knows he sounds pathetic, "Marie, I can't come now. What if she's still lurking around the corner?"

Marie is shouting now, "I don't care. Grow some balls Dylan and just get here. I've taken time off work and already paid for the hotel."

He's pleading and trying to calm her down, "Please Marie, don't get hysterical. Look I'm sorry! Ok, I'm sorry! I booked a hotel in Dorset for our weekend away. We're going to have a great time."

It sounds like she is spitting the words out now, "Are we still going? Is she going to follow us there? Do you want to end this Dylan?"

Marie hangs up and he feels the panic rising again. Shit, he is going to have to go and see her and calm her down. She could do anything in this kind of mood. He is properly shit scared of what might happen when he finally breaks up with her.

-x-

A couple of hours later, despite his best intentions, they're lying in bed drinking champagne after some filthy make-up sex, when Marie casually mentions that Molly has been delivering sandwiches to her office.

He almost chokes on his drink, "Sorry, Molly has been delivering sandwiches to your office?"

She has his complete attention and seems very pleased with herself, "Yes, and earlier today I had reason to summon her. Well, I made up a reason to be brutally honest. Told her that her tuna sandwiches had given my team food poisoning. You should have heard her grovel and beg me to not take it any further. It was quite pathetic really."

He is looking at her incredulously, "Marie, what are you playing at? Have you gone raving mad?"

He is feeling strangely defensive of Molly. It is bad enough that he is treating her so poorly, but she doesn't deserve Marie messing with her head as well.

"I wanted to see what the woman you ditched me for all those years ago is like."

"Now, now, now, wait a second. I didn't ditch you for Molly. I mean, you went to America."

She seems irritated to be challenged by the inconvenient truth, "Whatever. I wanted to see what this girl you seem to have no intention of leaving me for… despite the occasional pre-orgasmic suggestion that you are…. has that is so unleavable. And I have to say that I ended our brief meeting at a bit of a loss."

"Marie, she's not bloody stupid you know."

"Oh, I wouldn't say that."

-x-

He can't get out of the hotel quick enough after Marie's bombshell. He knows he is completely out of his depth with this woman. He knew she could be a bit of a bitch, but this kind of scheming is something else. She's dangerous and he feels slightly sick at the prospect of what else she might get up to.

Suddenly he has an epiphany. He's been thinking about this all wrong. What he needs to do is figure out a way to get Marie to finish with him, instead of him finishing with her. This is a genius idea and hopefully the upcoming weekend in Dorset will be the perfect opportunity to put this plan into action.

-x-

When he gets home he is surprised to find that Molly is not there. He's anxiously awaiting her return, hoping that her absence has nothing to do with Marie.

He hears the key in the front door lock and gets to his feet as she enters the living room, "Thank God Molls. I was so worried. Where have you been?"

She looks and sounds dreadful, "I went to Jac's. I needed to see a friendly face. I've had a 'orrible day. I met Cruella de Ville's less-nice sister this mornin'. She completely deflated me."

His guilt gets the better of him and before he can stop himself he utters, "I know."

She looks quizzically at him, "How d'ya know?"

"Well, no, I mean I can tell." He sits her down and gives her a cuddle to try to distract her from his slip-up, "Jeez, you look terrible. Let me make you a cuppa and run you a nice relaxing bath."

She doesn't seem tempted by this offer and instead snuggles in closer putting her feet up on the sofa, "Where were you earlier? I really needed to talk to you."

It feels good to cuddle her, they fit so well together, "Oh, I had some stuff to read up on, so I went to the library."

She sounds slightly exasperated, but not angry or demanding like Marie would be, "God, yer always at the library. I'm sick of makin' sandwiches. I know when you finish the book we'll be millionaires, but when you gonna finish it?"

He tries to sound confident, "I'm going to finish it very soon, Molls. Very soon."

He's stroking her hair, breathing in her scent and he feels overcome with affection for her. In this moment, he knows that she is all he wants and that he needs to make this right with her, "Molls, there's something I want to tell you….. I need to tell you. Um, it's a little bit to do with the book, the library and with that woman you met today. Only please let me finish before you say anything, ok?"

"Molls?" He's surprised she's not reacted to what he's just said until he realises that she's fallen asleep in his arms and he's missed the opportunity to come clean, "Bollocks."

 **Molly catches the train**

Dylan is feeling suffocated by the woman clinging to his arm as they walk together through Battersea Park.

Since Molly left him, Marie has been around constantly and frankly he's finding her needy demands, both mentally and physically, exhausting.

He desperately misses Molly. He misses the easiness of their relationship. He misses her loyalty. He misses her beautiful smile. He misses her wicked sense of humour. He misses her unaffected, kind nature. He misses making love to her.

Marie is a poor substitute and he just isn't as into her as much as he was when it was an illicit, exciting affair.

He's taken to disappearing to the library to get some space from her. He's told her that he needs a change of scene to get restarted on his book, to get over his writer's block. He's not convinced that she believes him.

He's brought back to the present by Marie, "Are you sure it's just writer's block? I mean you seem so distant. I'm here Dylan if you need to talk to me about anything."

He really doesn't want to talk to Marie about anything. The only person he wants to talk to is Molly. He wants to apologise to her and see if there is any way she might be willing to forgive him and come back home.

He's about to answer Marie when he notices Molly and a tall, athletic looking, man running together across the path about 20 metres in front of them. He doesn't recognise the man, but can't help feeling a huge pang of jealousy as the man reaches out to guide Molly past a small yapping dog on the path and she responds by playfully slapping his bottom and racing off. He watches in horror as the man chases after her, quickly catches her and draws her into a passionate embrace. As they separate, and start running again, he can tell Molly is laughing by the way she has thrown her head back.

He's suddenly conscious that he has stopped dead in his tracks and he's aware that Marie is looking at him questioningly. Without really engaging his brain, he blurts out, "She's got brown hair."

Marie follows his eyes and has a thunderous look on her face, "Maybe it isn't writer's block at all, Dylan. Maybe it is Molly block."

The mention of her name makes him wince. There is no way he is having this conversation with Marie and he tries to deflect her, "I don't want to hear about Molly. I don't care about Molly."

Marie does not appear fooled at all by his protestations, "The trouble is you do. Quite clearly."

Before he has a chance to respond to her, she is stalking off. After a few paces, she turns around and looks at him coldly, "I just thought of a great finish for your book. 'The End!'"


	8. Chapter 8

**Elvis is hosting a party**

Elvis is surveying his packed restaurant and feeling very pleased with himself. The launch party is in full swing and everyone looks to be having a great time. All is well in the world.

He has to admit that it has been much harder work than he expected. He's used to planning in meticulous detail from his Special Forces days but give him a Taliban insurgent cell to disable over dealing with the local council, restaurant fitters, suppliers, printers, volatile chefs and flaky wait staff any day.

Thank goodness for Molly Dawes.

 **Molly misses the train**

He can't believe he almost didn't interview Molly. Lady Luck was smiling on him when his original front of house girl let him down a week before opening. On paper, Molly didn't have a lot of catering experience, just some recent cafe work but she had previously worked in PR launching restaurants and hotels and was able to put on a good show in the interview.

Being a well-practiced bullshitter himself, he recognised similar traits in her, but suspected that much like himself, this was something of a mask. He had liked her immediately, so he took a chance and offered her the job on the spot. Molly certainly looks the part too, very pretty although not a natural blonde and not really his type. Besides, it probably isn't the best idea to get involved with someone in his chain of command and although she hasn't mentioned it, he is pretty sure there is a boyfriend on the scene.

The last week has been crazy busy, but she has worked like a trooper on the final preparations for the launch. She's brought some great ideas and has created a much cooler and more sophisticated vibe to the party than he could ever have achieved on his own. She's kept everything calm when others, including himself, have been losing their shit in the run-up to the big day. She's proved herself to be organised, adaptable and quick to learn, as well as having a great sense of humour. She has fitted in very well with the rest of the team and she's even managed to charm Antonio his excellent, but extremely high maintenance, head chef.

It was only after the interview that he realised that the cafe she's been working at is the one owned by Charlie's friend from Afghan, Qaseem. Although he doesn't know Qaseem very well, it's clearly another sign that he was meant to employ her. He must remember to mention it to Charlie when he gets here.

Right on cue, Charlie enters the restaurant and he walks over to meet him, "Welcome to my little restaurant Charlie."

"Wow Elvis, the place looks amazing."

"Thanks Charlie. I'd like to take the all the credit but the person behind tonight's launch is my new front of house, Molly."

He scans the room, catches Molly's attention and indicates for her to come over. He watches her effortlessly excuse herself from the conversation she's in and join them.

"Alright Bossman? Everythin' ok?"

He laughs at the nickname she's taken to using for him. It reminds him of his Army days, "Yes, everything's great. Molly, I just wanted to introduce you to my old friend Charlie, I mean Charles, James. Charlie, this is Molly Dawes."

Charlie looks slightly miffed at this less than eloquent introduction and is no doubt annoyed about him using his nickname, "Elvis, less of the old please." Charlie, ever the gentleman, is extending his hand, "Hello Molly, nice to meet you. I understand you're responsible for tonight."

Quick as a flash she's back at him, "Yeah, sorry about that."

He recognises her mischievous look, but poor Charlie doesn't realise she's taking the piss and is apologising, "Shit, no, I meant that as a compliment. The place looks amazing. This is a great party."

Although he is quite enjoying watching his friend suffer, he throws him a lifeline, "So Charlie, you and Molly have a friend in common, Qaseem."

Charlie seems eager to move the conversation on, "Really, how do you know Qaseem?"

"Well, I used to be 'is customer but then I lost me PR job. Now I work for 'im in the daytimes, makin' and deliverin' sandwiches. He's a proper diamond geezer."

"Right." Charlie looks confused, "Sorry Molly, I don't mean to be rude, but what the bloody hell does that mean?"

She's laughing, "Sorry. You know, he's a top bloke."

Charlie now appears embarrassed, "Right, yes. Of course."

He's fascinated to watch this exchange between Molly and Charlie. He's not entirely sure what is going on tonight with his normally confident friend, but something is definitely troubling him.

At this point one of the wait staff comes up to talk to Molly and she makes her leave, "Anyway, nice to meet you Charles. Enjoy the party."

Before she leaves, she gives him a cheeky wink, "Bossman, excuse me, but some of us 'ave got work to do."

As Molly walks away he can't but help notice that Charlie cannot take his eyes off her, "You alright mate?"

His friend looks troubled, "Yes, it's just a bit strange. Qaseem has mentioned her and now she's working here for you as well. And now I've met her, she seems kind of familiar….. I feel like maybe we've met somewhere before."

"Well I can tell you Charlie boy, she's a top bird. She's saved my life this past week."

"Indeed. She's also bloody gorgeous."

 **Molly catches the train**

When Charlie had suggested that he could maybe engage Molly to do the PR for his restaurant launch, he'd been a bit sceptical about whether it was necessary. Initially, he'd gone along with it, partly as a favour to Charlie but mostly to get into Jac's good books.

He'd given Jac his number that first night he'd met her and Molly with Charlie. He had been surprised when she'd got in contact a few days later. Initially their texts had been about pushing Charlie and Molly towards each other, but once that mission was accomplished he'd asked her out. They've been out on a few secret dates in the last month or so and he is totally and utterly smitten. She's independent, confident, intelligent, funny and completely different to the girls he normally goes out with. Since leaving the Army he's realised he's looking for something much more than casual sex with pretty girls. His whole perspective on life has changed now that he's not constantly disappearing on dangerous missions and he finally feels ready to start building a life with someone special. Unfortunately, Jac set the ground rules on their first date, adamant that she's not looking for a relationship with anyone, and although he told her that he felt the same, he was lying.

They'd first slept together on the second date and it was incredible, she was incredible. He literally cannot get enough of her, but can't read her emotions at all and she seems impervious to his charms, which is driving him crazy. It's a bit frightening, but it is almost like Jac is a female equivalent of himself and he knows he has definitely met his match in her.

He's not really sure that he has actually ever felt this way about a girl. He certainly didn't with the girl he almost married all those years ago. That relationship had been a massive error of judgement on his part. He had thought he should be getting married because that was what his friends were all doing, but he'd realised at the eleventh hour that it would be a mistake for both of them. Not long afterwards she had met someone else, got her wedding and he had continued with his carefree Army life.

He eyes the crowds, searches her out and takes her in. She looks sensational in a simple but incredibly flattering red cocktail dress and he feels his groin tightening with lust for her. It's almost as if she senses him eyeballing her because at that moment she looks at him and slyly winks, causing him even more discomfort. He's taking it as a good sign that she's here tonight. He'd been delighted when she had accepted his invitation, although she'd made it clear that she would be coming primarily to support Molly and that she did not want Molly or Charles to know they were sleeping together. He's hopeful they'll get together later when the party's over and he'll have another chance to try and change her mind.

Turning his attention back to the party, he has to admit that Molly's ideas for the launch were actually hugely impressive and there is no way he would have been able to have delivered anything nearly as professional on his own.

Over the last four weeks Molly has worked brilliantly with his restaurant team and on a fairly modest budget she has delivered what she promised from the outset, a truly glamorous and stylish evening.

Molly's currently working the room, looking confident and radiant, casually making sure people are having a great time, whilst Charlie is watching her intently from the bar.

He goes over to his friend, wanting to catch him on his own, "She's done a cracking job Charlie."

Charlies looks as proud as he sounds, "Yes, she has, hasn't she? She's brilliant."

"She makes you happy, doesn't she?"

"Yes, more than I thought possible. I'm in love with her Elvis."

He doesn't think he has ever known his friend so happy and relaxed, which makes what he is about to ask so much harder, "So, have you told her about Rebecca and Sam yet?"

Charlie's face tells him all he needs to know.

Although there is no love lost between him and Rebecca, Charlie's almost ex-wife, he has to admit that she has been very decent in agreeing to keeping news of their separation and impending divorce from Charlie's dying mother, knowing that it would unnecessarily break her heart.

In reality, the marriage was over a very long-time ago and the final split six months ago was completely amicable, with both Charlie and Rebecca wanting to maintain a good relationship for the sake of Sam, their thirteen year-old son, and his godson. Charlie had really only married Rebecca out of a sense of duty when he accidentally got her pregnant and by his own admission, he wasn't a very good husband for much of their marriage. He's fairly certain Charlie never once cheated on Rebecca, but he just wasn't there for her either emotionally or physically for long periods of time as, like him, Charlie was always happiest when he was on tour or living out of his bergen. In the last few years since leaving the Army, Charlie's thrown himself into running the family business and looking after his mother. From the outside, their marriage always looked solid and they were good at presenting a united front, but inevitably Rebecca had looked elsewhere for affection and has had various, albeit discrete, affairs over the years. In the end, she had asked for a divorce, having met someone she wanted to marry and Charlie had obviously agreed.

"Look, I know that I'm not exactly the best person to give you relationship advice, but you've been seeing Molly for what, 6 weeks? If it is as serious as you say, you need to tell her."

"I know, but the appropriate moment hasn't come up and it is a lot of baggage for her to take on board, especially given the circumstances of her last relationship."

"Come-on mate, she's a big girl, she's clearly crazy about you, she'll be fine with it. It will be a whole lot worse if she finds out some other way."

"I know. I know. Please Elvis, can we just leave it for tonight. I don't want to spoil things."

Charlie appears shaken by their conversation, which is brought to an abrupt end by Molly joining them. She seems to immediately sense that something is wrong, "You alright, Charles?"

Recognising the conflict going on in his friend, he attempts to distract Molly by grabbing her and twirling her around, "It's official. I love you. Thank you for tonight. You're a genius. I'm ecstatic!"

She's laughing at his over-the-top praise, "Thanks Elvis, but I were just doin' me job!"

Suddenly her expression changes, she visibly deflates in front of them, her once-radiant face replaced by an anguished one. She's staring at the restaurant door, "What the bleedin' 'ell is he doin' here?"


	9. Chapter 9

**Molly misses the train**

The morning after Elvis' party Charles has arranged to visit his friend and former CO, Major Roger Beck at his London home. He's got quite a hangover and is regretting having agreed to be there for 9am. In order to attempt to clear his head, he's decided to walk and is lost in his thoughts as he follows the river towards Beck's address in Putney.

He didn't get a huge amount of sleep last night, being late to bed and then finding himself lying awake thinking about Molly. He was more than a tad unnerved by their meeting. He was taken aback by how intense his attraction to her was. She had stirred something in him which he didn't think he'd ever feel, having all but given up on women after the disaster of his marriage to Rebecca.

He couldn't get over the strong feeling that he'd met her before, but couldn't figure out where or when that might have been. She hadn't seemed to have recognised him, so maybe he was mistaken or it was just wishful thinking on his part.

He'd spent the night desperately trying to remember some of the details about her that Qaseem had mentioned. He recalled that Qaseem had spoken very fondly of her. She's also clearly made a great impression on Elvis.

He was also acutely aware that he hadn't exactly made the best first impression with her. Although she hadn't seemed particularly phased by their conversation, he cringed in embarrassment at how he'd come across. He'd have to do much better next time he saw her, which he hoped would be soon.

He rings on the doorbell of Beck's house, takes a deep breath and stands up a bit straighter and subconsciously shifts into Army mode, old habits dying hard.

He's surprised to hear a woman's angry voice swearing on the other side of the door, "Who the bleedin' 'ell is ringing on the soddin' doorbell at this bleedin' time of the mornin'?"

He's even more surprised when the door is opened by a slightly dishevelled and bleary eyed Molly, who is wearing little more than a West Ham football shirt. In his hungover state, he can't for the life of him process why Molly is opening the door to Beck's house and is caught completely off-guard, "Molly?".

She looks just as surprised as he is, although she no longer sounds angry, "Charles?! What are you doin' 'ere?"

He's completely distracted by her half naked appearance and doesn't quite know where to place his eyes. He's also desperately trying to work out what rational explanation there can be for this situation. Last he'd heard Beck was a happily married man, "Erm, I'm here to see Roger?"

She appears confused by this and also seems to become a bit self-conscious of herself, tugging down her t-shirt and drawing her arms across her chest, "Who the bleedin' hell is Roger?

He has absolutely no idea what is going on here, but this definitely isn't how he envisaged meeting her again, "You know, Roger Beck, Major Beck."

Her face changes again, to one of recognition this time and she's giggling, "Ah, next door. Major Beck lives next door."

He feels a ridiculously massive sense of relief at this news, but remembers his manners, "Shit, I'm sorry. I've got the wrong house. I've woken you up. Shit, I'm sorry."

She's smiling broadly at him, "It's alright."

God she's beautiful when she smiles. He's aware that he's grinning at her like an idiot. He feels tongue-tied and unexpectedly unsure of himself around her. After what feels like an eternity, but is probably only a few seconds he manages to get some words out, "Um, great party last night."

She's still smiling at him, holding his gaze, "Thanks."

They're interrupted by a male voice from inside, "Who is it Molls? Whoever it is, tell them to go away."

The moment between them is broken and her expression has changed to one of apology, "Sorry, Charles. I'd better be goin'."

"Yes, of course. Sorry again. Bye."

She's closed the door and he's left standing on the doorstep wondering what the bloody hell just happened. He feels utterly dejected. He should have known, should have realised. Of course, someone like her would have a boyfriend.

 **Molly catches the train**

Charles gets up early the morning after the party, not that he's managed much sleep. He feels completely ashamed at how he acted last night and wonders if it is too early to go around to see Molly and beg for forgiveness.

It had all really gone to shit when Molly's ex-boyfriend, Dylan, had turned up at the party. Molly had been shocked to see him, and had marched straight up to him and told him in no uncertain terms that he wasn't welcome. He's not sure what Dylan had said to her in response, but she'd grabbed his arm and taken him outside. They'd been outside for some time and he'd been desperate to go and intervene but Elvis had quite rightly warned him off, telling him that it wasn't his battle to fight and that Molly wouldn't appreciate the interference. She'd kept looking towards him, and he knew that she knew he was watching everything that was happening. The longer the conversation went on, the more agitated and wound up he had got. Without warning, suddenly Molly & Dylan were embracing. His agitation had turned to anger and although he didn't immediately recognise the sensation, he was consumed by an irrational jealousy. He'd turned away, gone to the bar, ordered and downed a large whisky.

She had come back inside alone a few minutes later and walked straight up to him, "Sorry about that Charles. You alright?"

He'd been cold and short with her, "Why wouldn't I be?"

She'd touched his arm, which he'd immediately pulled away, "Charles, it weren't what it looked like."

He'd barely been able to keep his voice steady and hadn't managed to conceal his contempt, "Is that so? Because from where I was standing it looked like you were kissing your ex-boyfriend."

He'd not even waited to hear what she had to say, he'd just got up and walked out of the restaurant.

As soon as he had left he had regretted his actions. He knew he had been unfair to her and hadn't even bothered to listen to what she had to say. He had contemplated going back, but didn't trust himself to not make the situation worse. He was shaken by his earlier conversation with Elvis about Rebecca and was confused by just how quickly he'd lost control of the situation. This wasn't like him at all. All reason and sense had left him when it came to Molly.

He'd called her when he'd got home, but it had gone to voicemail. He'd not managed to summon the words to leave a voice message, but had texted her.

 _[ I'm so sorry Molly. I was an idiot. Please call. C x ]_

She'd not responded. He'd held out some hope that she might come around after the party, but she hadn't.

It was much later when he'd received a text from Elvis.

 _[ Not sure what happened between you & Molly, but she's a mess. Jac taken her home. You need to sort it out mate…. for all our sakes. ]_

His heart had sunk a bit further when he'd read the text. Molly was a mess and it was his fault. He briefly thought Elvis was being a bit dramatic…. _'for all our sakes'_ , what the bloody hell does that mean?

Having calmed down and thought about things rationally, he's certain he completely over-reacted last night and isn't even sure about what he thinks he saw. Whilst there was an embrace between Molly & Dylan, he didn't watch for long enough to know who was embracing who. He's reminded of Elvis' words, that Molly is crazy for him. In his heart, he knows this too, because they have spent so much time together over the last few weeks and the feeling is entirely reciprocated. He has literally never been happier than he is when he is around her and he feels her absence painfully.

He looks at his watch, 8.30am. He can't wait any longer, he needs to go and see her and make this right.


	10. Chapter 10

**Molly is exhausted**

 **Molly misses the train**

Molly crawls back into bed and groans. She's exhausted and could have really done with an uninterrupted lie-in today. She's had a restless night's sleep after the epic launch party, which had gone on for friends and staff into the early hours. Then when it felt like she had only just dropped off she'd been awoken by the doorbell and Elvis' bleedin' handsome friend Charles. He is possibly the most good-looking man she has ever laid eyes on and if she didn't know better, she would have sworn there was a moment between them just now on the doorstep. Bleedin' hell, she really is sleep deprived and delusional; someone like him would never be interested in her, particularly not looking like she did when she answered the door. Nevertheless, she'd really enjoyed chatting with him and he had definitely stirred something in her this morning. She lets her mind start wandering ….

She's distracted from her thoughts by Dylan, cuddling her from behind, his erection pressing into her. She involuntarily feels her body stiffen at his touch and she definitely doesn't feel like having sex with him at this particular moment. He's still blowing hot and cold in their relationship and she's fed up of sex always being on his terms, which seems largely dependent on how his soddin' book is going.

She still has an uneasy feeling that he's up to something; but apart from his distracted behaviour she hasn't got any real proof and, given her current state of exhaustion, it is probably all in her mind. One day last week, in a fit of proper madness, she had even followed him. She had felt like a prize tit when he had ended up at the library, which is exactly where he had said he was going. Then there was this research trip to Dorset next weekend that he'd begged her to go on. If he was playing away, why would he be asking her to go away for a weekend? He'd been genuinely disappointed when she'd said she couldn't go because of her new job at the restaurant. They'd even argued about it. Besides, she's hardly being fair to him either, she's the one who has just been lusting after a complete stranger.

He senses her tension, "Molls?"

"Sorry, I'm just really tired."

He cuddles her and strokes her tummy, "Time of the month?"

"Erm, yeah. Time of the month." Shit, shittity, shit. Time of the month. When was the last bleedin' time of the month? Shit. She'd put her perpetual exhaustion down to working two jobs, particularly with the additional hours she's been putting in over the last week getting the restaurant ready for launch. Shit. She can't be pregnant. Can she?

 **Molly catches the train**

Molly is lying in bed, long having given up on getting any sleep. Her nut is a complete mess. Everything had been going so well until Dylan turned up at the party and begged to speak to her. She bitterly regretted agreeing to go outside with him, but had wanted to avoid a scene in the restaurant.

As soon as they got outside he had started laying it on thick; telling her how important she was to him, how he wanted to fight for her, pleading with her to forgive him, telling her that he couldn't write his sodding book, couldn't do anything without her, telling her it was over between him and Marie. She'd heard him out for a while, but had quickly realised that she had absolutely no interest in what he was saying to her. She'd looked into the restaurant and had seen Charles watching her. She could tell from his body language that he was getting agitated. She knew in that instant that all she wanted was to get back inside and be with him. She felt unfaithful just by being outside with Dylan.

Then, suddenly without warning, Dylan had grabbed her and kissed her. She'd been taken totally by surprise and it was a few seconds before she had pulled away, looked into the restaurant and found out that Charles was no longer watching. She'd shouted at Dylan and told him to stop, told him that he had no right to touch her, no right to even speak to her anymore.

He had grabbed her again and started begging, telling her he'd made a mistake and that he was truly sorry. She'd known that she had to get back inside, but was struggling to escape his vice like grip. It was at this point that Elvis had appeared and told Dylan very clearly that he should sling his hook and leave her alone, or else he might not live to regret it. This might have sounded funny coming from someone else, but Elvis delivered it in a way that made Dylan slink away with no further argument. Knowing Elvis' Special Forces background, she had a feeling that he had meant it.

She'd gone back inside and found Charles at the bar. She'd tried to explain what had happened but he'd shot her down before she'd even had a chance to get started. He'd looked at her with such complete disgust, accused her of kissing Dylan and had left.

She'd burst into tears almost immediately and had rushed to the toilets where she'd been violently sick, her body physically reacting to the pain in her heart. Afterwards she'd felt numb and in shock at what had just happened, at how quickly things had gone wrong between her and Charles. Jac had found her slumped on the floor and with Elvis's help, they'd managed to guide her through the restaurant and into a cab without anyone else noticing the state she was in.

When they'd got home she'd gone straight to her room, unable to even talk to Jac about what had happened. She'd cried and cried. The stress of the last couple of months all came out in her tears; losing her job, Dylan's betrayal and now Charles' rejection of her.

At some point her tears had stopped and she'd started to feel anger; initially at Dylan for turning up and ruining everything and then, she started to feel anger at Charles. She was angry at how he had treated her. Angry that he hadn't trusted her with Dylan. Angry that he had looked at her with such contempt. Angry that he had pulled away and left, rather than talk to her.

She now feels just an overwhelming sense of sadness and loss. The last six weeks have been incredible and she's never felt happier or more in love with someone than she feels with Charles. She is ridiculously attracted to him physically and finds it difficult to keep her hands off him, which has been unequivocally reciprocated until now. He has been hugely supportive of her starting her own business and as a result she has felt her confidence in her abilities starting to return. But, last night has highlighted just how emotionally attached she has become to him, and consequently also how much he can hurt her. In the cold light of day, she is not sure how she feels about this and whether she can cope with this level of intensity in a relationship.

She needs to clear her head and knows that the only thing which really does that is running. She's sat on the stairs, lacing up her trainers when there is a light knock on the door. She opens the door and is met by Charles. She is taken aback by his dishevelled and tired looking appearance; he looks like she feels.

He steps inside the house, moving towards her, "Molly."

She steps back, keeping some distance between them, "Charles."

He moves forward again, hesitantly, "Molly, I am so sorry. I don't know what got into me last night… Actually, that's not true. I do. I was jealous of you and Dylan. I know I acted appallingly. You didn't deserve that. Please, can you forgive me?'

She looks him squarely in the eye, "You really 'urt me."

He reaches towards her, holding his hands out, inviting her to come to him, "I'm so sorry. Molly, all I want is to make you happy."

She folds her arms protectively around herself, "Well you fucked up big time."

He tentatively reaches towards her again, and gently cups her face in his hands, staring deeply into her eyes, "I know. When you were outside with Dylan… In that moment, a lot of things flashed through my mind. I thought it was the end of us."

She's returning his gaze, tears starting to fall down her cheeks, "So did I."

He gently kisses away her tears, "Molly, you're all that I want. I want you to be the last thing I see."

She reaches up, puts her hands behind his head and pulls his face towards her lips, 'Ditto".

-x-

Later, they're lying in bed, Charles spooning her, having made love in the most gentle and intense way. Although she doesn't want to ruin their moment, there is something she needs to say, "Charles."

He's idly stroking her hair, "Hmm."

She's trying to figure out the right words, "I need to say somethin'…"

She can tell that he's not really listening because he's placing small kisses along her shoulders blades, sliding his arms around her waist and pulling her closer toward him.

She holds onto his hands, to stop them wandering, "Charles, stop. This is important to me."

He pauses and lets out a frustrated groan, "Well, spit it out Dawesy."

She wriggles round and turns to face him, "I need you to be 'onest with me in the future. Tell me how you are feelin'. Don't bottle things up. No more secrets."

She thinks she detects a slight flicker of tension pass over his beautiful face, but this is quickly forgotten as he answers her by kissing her deeply, his strong arms drawing her close and she willingly succumbs to him.

 **Hope you're still enjoying the story... I'm sorry it has all got a bit angsty but the journey to happiness never runs smoothly for these two does it?**


	11. Chapter 11

**A bit of a short, fluffy update. I'm off on holiday tomorrow and am meant to be packing (I hate packing and am very happy to be distracted from it!)... Depending on wifi and time, I may or may not have a chance to update whilst I'm away.**

 **P.S. I know Charles needs to tell Molly his secret, but you know when something has gone on for too long and you've missed the moment to come clean and then it seems too difficult to do... well that is where he is at now. Besides, I need it to remain a secret for a little while longer...**

 **Charles is feeling lucky**

 **Molly misses the train**

Charles knows it is hopeless, but finds himself adjusting his daily routine so he can drop by Qaseem's cafe mid-morning on the off-chance that he will bump into Molly. Some days he's lucky and some days he's not.

It's on one of the unlucky days that Qaseem calls him out, "You're in late again Charles."

He tries to sound casual, wondering where this is going, "You know, busy morning."

Qaseem has a knowing look, "I know the subtext."

He feels and sounds a little bit too defensive, "What do you mean?"

Qaseem is looking fondly at him, "I don't think it's just me that you come to see these days. I think it is a certain young lady."

He groans in embarrassment, knowing he can't fool his old friend, "Is it that obvious?"

Qaseem is nodding and smiling in a knowing way, "How long have we known each other my friend?

He concedes, "A long time."

"I see how you are around her. I have not seen you like that for a very long time. You know how I feel about her, she's a special girl... but you should also know there is a boyfriend."

He looks sad, "I know."

Qaseem continues cautiously, "She puts on a good front, but I don't think she's happy in the relationship."

Charles could hug his friend. He knows that Qaseem prides himself on discretion and would have wrestled internally about whether or not to reveal this information about Molly.

Qaseem isn't quite finished, "She has also been asking about you. I think you may have made quite an impression on her too."

Suddenly things don't seem quite so hopeless anymore and he feels a glimmer of hope.

 **Molly catches the train**

Charles is standing in Jac's kitchen waiting for the kettle to boil, ravenously eating a stolen bowl of Molly's coco-pops, completely lost in his thoughts.

He knew that when Molly had said "No more secrets", he should have told her about Rebecca and Sam. This was the right time to tell her, but also completely the wrong time on so many levels. He didn't want to do it when they were in bed together and he didn't want to do it when things still felt so fragile between them. He knew it was cowardly to put it off, but he did and resolves to figure out a good time to do it soon.

He is surprised by someone leaning over and attempting to steal some of his breakfast cereal.

"Oi," he turns around and is taken aback by the identify of his attacker. "Bloody hell, Elvis. Will you ever quit sneaking up on people like that?"

Elvis looks pretty pleased with himself, "Sorry mate, SF habits die hard."

He can't help but laugh as he takes in his tough mate's appearance. Elvis is sporting a long, silky, shocking pink dressing gown. He doesn't look like he has had much, if any, sleep. "Nice dressing gown. What the bloody hell are you doing here anyway?"

Elvis doesn't look in the least bit embarrassed by his attire and just returns a shit eating grin, "That's classified. I could tell you but I'd have to kill you. So, I assume you've made up with Molly then?"

"And I assume you've somehow convinced Jac that you're a good thing?"

Elvis' smile becomes broader and warmer and he nods but there is no smart remark.

Charles looks at him and thinks he detects something different about his friend. He knows that underneath the obvious bravado, there is a sensitive man struggling to get out. There is definitely something happening to Elvis; leaving the Army, setting up the restaurant, building a future, getting ready to settle down. Bloody hell, Elvis is in love.

-x-

A little while later, he enters the bedroom and sees Molly is dozing. He quietly places the tray, laden with buttered toast and mugs of tea and coffee on the bedside table and gently gets into bed beside her. She stirs and slips her arm across his chest, snuggling in close.

He feels a huge surge of contentment and love for the woman next to him. He kisses the top of her head.

She moves herself up and kisses him fully on the lips, murmuring, "Hmm, 'ello you."

She pulls away and he notes her spy the breakfast tray, "Madam, your breakfast."

She sits up and he hands her some toast and a mug of tea. She sips the tea and wolfs down the toast, "My 'ero. Thanks."

They eat in companionable silence.

"I've just bumped into Elvis in the kitchen... did you know about them?"

"Not exactly, but I've suspected. Jac 'as been a bit elusive and 'e is exactly 'er type."

He sounds worried, "He's not got the best track record with women."

She lets out a laugh, "Don't worry. She's not lookin' for a relationship. I think she can more than 'andle Elvis. In fact, I'd be more worried for 'im."

Hearing this, he is worried for his friend, but in a different way than Molly means. "I hope you're right. I've long since learnt to not get involved in Elvis' love life."

"Hmmm, talkin' of love life..." She's manoeuvred herself onto his lap and starts placing light kisses on his lips, neck and chest.

He groans with pleasure, "Again, Molly?"

She's smirking, continuing to place teasing kisses on his body, "Well now you've 'ad yer coco-pops an' coffee, you should be re-fueled and ready to go."

He tries to sound wounded, "How do you know about the coco-pops? I've not had coco-pops in bloody years."

She just smiles at him, holds his face in her hands and kisses him deeply.


	12. Chapter 12

**Apologies for any typos - I've been writing this on my phone whilst on holiday.**

 **For those who know the Sliding Doors story and without giving too much away to those who don't, how true do you think I should be to the 'catches the train' ending? I'm torn...**

 **Molly is breaking**

 **Molly misses the train**

Molly is having a short break and a quick snack at the restaurant having finished the Sunday lunchtime shift. She's worked all weekend whilst Dylan is away on his research trip to Dorset.

Initially, she was pretty disappointed that she couldn't go away with him but now she is quite glad to have had some time apart to get her head around being pregnant. She confirmed it with the help of multiple tests and after the initial shock is actually feeling pretty excited. Admittedly the circumstances are far from perfect, but she's not getting any younger and she has always wanted a family. She's not told Dylan yet, but will do soon.

Although things are still strained between them at times, she's got the definite impression he's trying to be more attentive. He made a big show of not wanting to go on his research trip and she had to practically push him out of the door in the end.

All relationships go through rocky periods and she knows she hasn't been in a particularly good place in recent months due to the stress of her old PR firm job. With hindsight, she probably hasn't been the easiest person to live with, especially as Dylan's been trying to write his book. Getting fired wasn't actually such a bad thing as she's much better out of that toxic environment. Admittedly, although making sandwiches and working in a restaurant aren't exactly what she saw herself doing six months ago, she is happier and Qaseem and Elvis are both good bosses.

She finds it physically exhausting being on her feet all day, but given her condition that's not surprising. It also highlights just how privileged her life has become that she can't cope with a bit of hard manual graft. She totally has to get a grip of herself and be grateful for what she has.

She's still convinced that another PR job will come up, she just needs to keep looking and remain positive.

She also needs to put these lustful thoughts for Charles James out of her nut. She's pregnant with Dylan's child so it is completely wrong. It's probably just her hormones running wild anyway.

She's pretty certain that once Dylan gets over the shock, he will be excited about the baby. He has talked about wanting a family in the past; talked about doing things differently to how he was brought up, his mum doing it all on her own after his father left during her pregnancy. She smiles and thinks about how his mum, Candy, is going to be shittin' ecstatic. She's made no secret of her desire for grandchildren and since Dylan's twin brother Geraint died a few years ago, it's all on him. Shit, Dylan is a twin. Shit. Does that mean she might be having twins?

She hasn't spoken to Dylan since he's been gone, so decides to give him a quick call. Not to tell him, but just to have a chat.

She dials his number and waits for him to answer. When he eventually does, he sounds breathless, "Molly, why are you calling? What's up?"

She's quite taken aback by his greeting, "Why does somethin' need to be up for me to call?"

He's blustering and sounds distracted, "No, you're right. I'm sorry... How are you?"

She knows she sounds a bit sulky, but can't help it, "Alright, I suppose."

There is a long pause as though he's struggling to think what to say, "So, what have you been up to?"

She thinks that is a pretty fucking stupid question and can't hide the irritation in her voice, "Er, workin'. You know that. That's why I couldn't come with you"

He sounds sorry, "Yes, of course."

She feels like a bit of a bitch for being so spiky and tries to be more pleasant, "So, what have you been up to? Please tell me somethin' excitin'?"

"Well, you know. Not much."

She's back to irritated again, "I thought it was a bleedin' research trip? Hopefully you've been doin' some bleedin' research?"

"Well yes, of course I have. Actually, Molly I'm sorry but I'm kind of in the middle of ... some research right now, so I'm going to have to go. See you Monday evening."

"Oh, ok." He obviously can't wait to get off the phone to her and hangs up. She is left saying "bye" to a dead line.

Well, she thinks, with all of her earlier positivity thoroughly disappeared, that has to have been one of the worst, most strained conversations she has had with him in a long time. He sounded completely distracted throughout and as though he was just going through the motions with his stupid, unthinking questions.

She's now less sure how he will take the baby news. What if he decides he doesn't want a baby with her after all?

-OG-

The restaurant has been really busy since opening night and has gained a great reputation in a short space of time. Her shifts are full-on and normally fly by but tonight she's in a bad mood after the call with Dylan and the evening feels like it has gone on forever. Whilst she's managed to maintain a professional front with her colleagues and the customers, inside she's been struggling with her emotions.

"Shittin' 'ell" she mutters as she clocks who has just come into the restaurant, looking perfect and so ridiculously bleedin' handsome.

She feels her earlier resolve slipping as he comes up to her, looks at her with his beautiful brown eyes and gives her a shy smile.

She can't help playing with him and says in her best front of house voice, "Evening Sir, do you have a reservation."

He seems thrown by her formality, and a frown crosses his face, "Erm..."

"Are you dinin' alone this evenin' or are you meetin' someone?"

He looks like he's trying to form a response but without much success, "Er..."

She holds her formality for a few more seconds but can't bear the frown anymore and breaks into a broad smile, "Sorry, that wasn't very funny. It's nice to see you Charles."

He looks massively relieved and his smile returns, "I was in the area and thought I'd pop in and see... erm... Elvis... and see how things are going."

She's pretty sure that is bullshit and she feels a flutter of excitement that he has maybe come to see her. She plays it casual, "Oh, Elvis aint here tonight. I'm in charge."

He's looking at her intently, "Right... in that case, maybe I will sit at the bar for a while."

She is aware that there is a whole separate conversation going on with his eyes. He IS flirting with her and she can't stop herself doing the same. She's returning his gaze, "Sure, can I get you anythin' to eat?"

"Er no, I'm alright, but... perhaps you can join me for a drink later when things are a bit quieter?"

Shit. If there was any doubt that she'd read things wrong, it has just evaporated. She knows she should make an excuse and say no, but truth be told she'd love to spend some time in his company. Sod Dylan and his sodding research trip. "Yes, I'd love that. Give me about half an hour."

-OG-

It's more like an hour later and she's finally getting to a point where she can stop and have a drink with Charles. She's been aware of him watching her as she works, and they've kept meeting each other's eyes and exchanging shy little smiles. She is almost bursting with expectation as the last diners are finally paying their bill.

The restaurant door opens and she's about to tell whoever it is that they're closed when she realises it is Dylan, holding a bunch of flowers.

She is shocked and completely caught off-guard by this turn of events, "Er Dylan, what are you doin' 'ere?"

He looks hurt and sounds wounded, "That's not quite the welcome I was expecting. I've come home early to see you. When you called earlier, I realised I was missing you and wanted to see you."

She knows she should be happy Dylan's here, but her overwhelming feeling is one of disappointment and she's not sure she's managing to disguise it, "Oh right..."

She looks over at Charles. His expression no longer has any warmth in it and she thinks he looks rather stern faced. He stands up, clears his throat and his words are clipped, "Molly, I'll be off. See you around."

She feels awful. She's thoughtlessly led him on and has been found out in the worst possible way. She turns to him and tries to convey the depth of her apology with her eyes as well as her words, "Oh, Charles. Shit. I'm so sorry."

As walks past her and towards the door he doesn't meet her eyes, "Goodnight Molly."

Dylan is now looking questioningly at Molly. She knows she should be feeling guilty for being caught, red handed, almost having a drink with Charles, but all she feels is annoyance at Dylan for ruining her plans. She retaliates in deflection, "You never buy me flowers."

Dylan stares at her in surprise and sounds incredibly pissed off, "Most people would say thank you, Molly."

 **Molly catches the train**

Molly is missing Charles. He's been away since Sunday on a business trip and they've been apart for 4 whole days which is their longest separation since they got together. They've spoken everyday and texted loads but she's desperate to see him and be with him.

He got back late last night and had to go to the office today, so they've arranged to meet later, but she's decided to stop by with some lunch and surprise him. She decides to pick up some sandwiches at Qaseem's and have a catch up with him too, killing two birds with one stone.

"Mornin' Qaseem."

He welcomes her with a large hug, "Ah my beautiful Molly, how is the better half of my favourite couple?"

She blushes at his compliment, "Missin' the other 'alf like mad! I thought I'd surprise 'im at 'is office with lunch."

"Ah, the excitement of young love!"

"You make us sound like a couple of teenagers! We're not that young Qaseem."

"Maybe not, but you're young compared to an old man like me. So what can I get you?"

-x-

She stands outside the tall building and looks up. She's never been to Charles' actual office before, but knows the building well because it also houses her former PR agency. She had thought it might be distressing returning to the place which caused her so much stress and upset, but she is delighted to feel nothing but liberation from the awful place. Her life has been irrevocably changed for the better by the events of that fateful Monday morning and she couldn't be happier than she is right now.

She steps into the lift, presses floor 15 and waits for the doors to close. Moments later she is unpleasantly surprised as Sohail enters just as the doors are closing. She stands behind him, hoping against hope that perhaps he didn't recognise her in her casual clothing and with her new hair colour.

The lift stops at the agency's floor and as Sohail leaves he holds the doors and turns to talk to her, "Hi Molly, I thought it was you."

She really doesn't want to have a conversation with him, so just acknowledges him briefly hoping he'll leave her alone, "Sohail."

"Look, I've been meaning to call and apologise for how things ended between us."

She's not expecting this, "What do you mean?"

"Well, I think I was hasty in firing you. I hear you're setting up a new agency. I've heard very good things about the Harte's launch."

The bleedin' cheek of the man. He only wants her back because now she's competition and is doing well. She's furious but doesn't want to show it so opts for one of Charles' expressions, a non-commital, "Right."

"So would you consider coming back?"

"Nah, I wouldn't consider comin' back." She is completely calm but isn't going to meekly walk away from this situation now, "And just for clarity, if it were the last job on the planet, and you had a face and personality transplant... I would still rather go without."

He looks genuinely shocked, "Excuse me?"

She can't resist continuing, "You know Sohail there are only two things I don't like about you... your face."

He appears to be beyond the power of speech at this dressing down, "Eh?"

She steps forward, pushes his arm away from the door, "Now, be a good boy and sod off."

As the door closes, she lets out a massive giggle. His face during the whole exchange was an absolute picture. She knows it was childish to act like that but it felt so good to finally put that bastard in his place. She can't wait to recount the story to Charles over lunch, he will absolutely love it.

The doors open to Charles' floor and she steps into the lift lobby. As she looks through glass doors into an incredibly tasteful and expensive looking reception area she thinks to herself that they haven't really discussed his work, but clearly his business is doing pretty well.

She walks up to the intercom, presses the buzzer and announces herself, "Miss Dawes to see Mr James."

A male voice replies, "I'm sorry Miss Dawes, Mr James isn't here right now."

She's disappointed but hopes perhaps he'll be back soon, "Oh, I'm a close friend, could you tell me when he will be back?"

He sounds apologetic, "I'm not sure. He's gone to visit his mother at St Thomas' hospital with his wife and son."

She's immediately shaken from her good mood as she processes what she thinks she just heard. She's not sure she can cope with hearing those words again, but she has to be sure that she heard correctly, "I'm sorry... what did you say?"

"I said, he's gone to visit his mother in hospital with his wife and son. She's taken a turn for the worse."

She's turning and running back towards the lift, desperately jabbing the call button. She can hear the voice on the intercom, "Hello!?! Miss Dawes?!? Would you like to leave him a message?"

The lift opens, she dives in and thankful that it is empty, breaks into a thousand pieces.


	13. Chapter 13

**Dylan is out of luck**

 **Molly misses the train**

Dylan is feeling pretty pleased with himself. He thinks he's managed to finish the relationship with Marie. He's not heard from her since she stormed out of the hotel in Dorset on Sunday afternoon. It was actually the call from Molly which delivered the final blow to the whole sorry affair. Marie had started completely flipping out during the call about his inability to leave Molly. Her hysterics had made it pretty hard for him to concentrate on what Molly had been saying to him, but thankfully he'd managed to get Molly off the phone before Marie had gone into complete fucking meltdown. It hadn't been pleasant; she had shouted, screamed and hurled things at him, but ultimately she had left, he was free of her and Molly was none the wiser.

Admittedly his early homecoming with Molly didn't go quite as well as expected. He'd thought that surprising her at the end of her shift with flowers would go down really well, but she seemed almost annoyed to see him and was suspicious of why he'd bought her flowers. There had also been that weird exchange between Molly and that good-looking guy who was hanging around at the bar. Whoever he was, he'd not stuck around for long once he'd turned up.

By the time they'd got home, Molly seemed to have calmed down a bit. He'd done a bit of grovelling for leaving her to work for the weekend, had run her a relaxing bath and had even managed to shag her. It wasn't his best performance, he'd not been particularly giving to her, but he'd desperately needed the release after the stress of the afternoon and it felt good to assert and re-affirm his ownership of her especially with the other guy sniffing around.

The other good news is that Molly has been approached about a new PR job with some international agency setting up in London. She's got an initial interview with the CEO this evening at 8pm. It would be great for her to be earning a decent salary again, to see them over until he finishes his book.

At that moment, his phone pings with a text message.

[ We need to talk. Come to my apartment at 7.45pm tonight. Marie ]

He's determined he's not going to play her games.

[ What do we need to talk about? ]

[ Just be there Dylan. Or else you will regret it. 7.45pm. Don't be late. ]

And there it is. The summons. His good mood and confidence evaporates. The threat is clear. This is what he has always been afraid of with Marie, that she will do something to jeopardise his and Molly's relationship. Of course he will go to her apartment and deal with whatever it is Marie needs to tell him.

Luckily, the timing coincides nicely with Molly's interview so he'll be able to sneak out without having to make up any more lies about where he is going and he can make sure he is back before Molly gets home.

-OG-

He arrives at Marie's apartment bang on time. Marie opens the door, wearing one of his shirts and true to form, very little else. She hands him a glass of wine and encourages him to come in and sit down. He meekly follows her lead feeling his resolve, to hear what she has to say and get the hell out of there as quickly as possible, weakening.

She's sat down beside him and he's finding it awkward as she fawns over him, apologising for storming out of their hotel room. She's edging closer and closer towards him and he's running out of sofa.

He's aware of the panic in his voice, but tries to sound assertive, "Marie. It's over. You finished it."

She stops and is looking at him with renewed determination, "Not quite Dylan. There's someone else to consider now."

He's wondering what the hell she is going on about and just where this conversation is going when there is a ring on the doorbell.

She stands up, causally checking her watch, "Ah, saved by the bell. Can you get that Dylan whilst I nip to the toilet?"

He gets up and goes to the front door, glad of the chance to get off the sofa and away from Marie's advances. He opens the door to find Molly, standing there nervously holding her hands.

He can't process this development quick enough, and manages to stammer out, "Molly?!... What are you doing here?"

She looks equally surprised, "Dylan?!... What are you doin' here at me interview?"

At this moment Marie appears, looking extremely pleased with herself and not at all apologetic, "Ah, Molly. I'm sorry, but I'm not going to be able to do your interview right now. I need to talk to your boyfriend about whether to keep his baby or not."

He's still struggling to process this situation, "Marie, what the hell are you talking about? What baby?"

Marie just looks at him and waves a pregnancy test. "Our baby Dylan."

She looks slyly at Molly and sounds positively jubilent, "Oh Molly, I'm so sorry you had to hear about it this way..."

All colour has drained from Molly's face and her body seems to have crumpled. He knows he's got to act fast to try to salvage something from Marie's coup, "Molly, please."

Molly hasn't said anything, and is now turning away and starting to run towards the stairs at the end of the corridor. She's gaining speed and he's following her, "Molly. Don't run, please wait."

Suddenly she's no longer on her feet, but falling down the stairs, shrieking and desperately trying to grab the banister or anything else to stop herself. There is a sickening thud as she hits the wall at the bottom of the stairs and then there is silence and he's appalled to realise that she's not moving.

 **Molly catches the train**

Dylan is sat on the sofa, surrounded by dirty crockery, empty beer cans and take away cartons.

It's not just the house which has descended into chaos since Molly made it clear they were finished, that night at the launch party.

He's been given an ultimatum by his publisher to deliver a first draft of his book within 2 weeks or else they will drop him and reclaim the advance from future royalties from his first book. He's hardly written anything and what he has done is shit. He's too embarrassed to even show it to his editor.

He's had to borrow money from his mother to settle his debts because he spent all his second book advance on impressing Marie. He's now been served notice on the house because since Molly left he's not been paying the rent.

With nowhere to live and no income, he's going to have to move back to Newport, to live with his mother. The celebrated published author who turned his back on his friends and family when he briefly tasted success and a bit of cash.

He's had to explain everything to his mother who was so bitterly disappointed in him. She has always adored Molly and fully expected her to become her daughter-in-law one day and eventually mother to her grandchildren.

Although she didn't say it, he knew she was thinking that Geraint would never have treated a girl, he supposedly loved, so badly. If he's honest he knows that Geraint wouldn't have done it either. He was always a much better person. A much better son.

The only positive out of the whole sorry mess is that, thankfully, the relationship with Marie is completely over. She lost interest pretty quickly when she realised he was still pining for Molly.

He briefly wonders whether he should try to speak to Molly again, try to catch her on her own, away from the restaurant and that bloody scary guy who stepped in before. He discounts this thought, he knows it is pointless. Molly was pretty definitive in her text the day after the launch. He brings up the message, reading it for the hundredth time.

[ Dylan. Do not try to contact me again. You lost that right when you cheated on me. I've moved on and am with someone else now. Molly ]

He knows he has to accept that their relationship is over and it is entirely, 100 percent, his fault. He completely fucked up and has lost the best thing that has ever happened to him.


	14. Chapter 14

**Another update thanks to a day of travelling... I'm going to post and run for cover.**

 **Charles is out of luck**

 **Molly misses the train**

Charles leaves the restaurant feeling bitterly disappointed.

He's disappointed that after finally plucking up the courage to ask Molly to join him for a drink that their plans were thwarted by the arrival of her boyfriend, Dylan.

He's disappointed with how he acted as he left, not meeting her eye and leaving in a huff like that was childish and unforgivable. It wasn't her fault that Dylan had turned up; and she really hadn't seemed very pleased to see him at all.

He thinks back to what Qaseem had said about Molly putting on a front and he wonders what her story is and what the true status of the relationship with Dylan is.

He took an immediate dislike to Dylan; something about him just seemed off. He's usually a fairly good judge of character and has met enough jumped up, self-important squaddies in his time to recognise the type. He also didn't like the way Dylan spoke to Molly, he came across as possessive and not in a good or protective way.

He's disappointed because it now seems clear to him that nothing is going to happen with Molly. Even worse, he realises he's being incredibly selfish, pursuing her when she's already in a relationship, whether she's happy or not. He doesn't want to complicate things for her and add to whatever troubles she is having. He resolves to back off and wait out.

 **Molly catches the train**

Charles is leaving the hospital with Rebecca and Sam when he gets a call from Brains, his star investment manager and one of his former Army colleagues. He's a little bit surprised to be getting a call from work as he'd left clear instructions that he didn't want to be disturbed for the afternoon.

"What's up Brains?"

"Boss, I think I might have fucked up."

This doesn't sound good. He's known Brains for a long time and he's one of the safest pairs of hands he knows. He trusts him completely and has never had cause to doubt his judgment or motives.

"What do you mean? How?"

"A woman stopped by the office asking for you. I told her you'd gone to visit your mother with your wife and son. She asked me to repeat it and then she bolted. I'm sorry, but I definitely didn't say 'soon to be ex-wife'."

He can hear the anguish in Brains' voice. Whilst he's told Brains about the separation and impending divorce from Rebecca, he hasn't yet told him about Molly, but he's clearly worked it out.

"Shit. Did she give a name?"

"Miss Molly Dawes."

"Fuck."

"I'm really sorry Boss... I'm guessing she's the reason for your recent mood upswing?"

"Indeed. She is. How long ago was this?"

"About 5 minutes."

"Ok. Thanks for letting me know Brains. Please don't worry, this isn't your fault. I've been a massive cockwomble."

He is furious with himself. This is exactly what Elvis tried to warn him about happening, "Rebecca, Sam. I'm really sorry but I've got to go. I need to find Molly."

Rebecca looks at him incredulously and with a surprising amount of pity, "Oh Charles, do I take it from that conversation that you still haven't told Molly about us?"

Before he has a chance to answer, Sam is speaking, "Dad?"

"Yes, Sam?"

Sam looks mischievously at him, and he knows what is coming. His son spends too much bloody time with Elvis and won't resist this opportunity, "You're right. You have been a massive cockwomble."

"Right, lovely. Thanks for your support Sam."

The ridiculous thing is that he told Rebecca and Sam about Molly weeks ago. They'd both noticed the positive change in him and had both been really pleased for him. In fact, Sam has been persistently pestering him to arrange a meeting.

He's foolishly let this situation get completely out of control with Molly. He's more than aware that it's no longer just about the fact that he's married, be it separated and nearly divorced with a thirteen year old son but more that after all this time, he hasn't managed to be honest with her about it.

-OG-

He tries Molly's mobile but it goes straight to voicemail. He rings off without leaving a message, unsure what he should say, how to address this enormous problem on a voicemail. He thinks for a few moments, calls back hoping she might pick up. It goes straight to voicemail again and he decides he has to say something.

"Molly. I know you've been to my office. Please call me back. I can explain... it isn't what it sounds like. I'm sorry. Please call me."

-OG-

He rings the doorbell at Jac's house and waits nervously. He can hear someone on the other side of the front door, takes a deep breath and braces himself for whatever is going to come next.

The door is opened by a thunderous looking Jac. He knows he has to face this and there isn't anything she can say that he doesn't deserve, "Hi Jac. Is Molly here?"

She's practically spitting out her words, "You've got a bloody nerve coming here."

He doesn't even try to defend himself, "I know. I'm sorry. Is she here?"

She's not showing any sign of calming down, "I think you should be getting back to your wife and son."

"Please Jac, I really need to speak to her. To explain."

"Well, she's not here."

"Do you know where she is?"

"No I don't... goodbye Charles." She's now looking more sad than angry as she adds, "Oh, and you can tell Elvis not to bother calling me again either."

Shit, he didn't anticipate this. He can't fuck things up for Elvis too. He's pleading now, "Jac. This has absolutely nothing to do with Elvis. Please don't do this to him."

She doesn't say anything further but just closes the door in his face.

-OG-

He pulls out his phone and dials Elvis' number.

"Alright, Charlie boy?"

"No, Elvis. I'm not. I've fucked up big time. Have you spoken to either Molly or Jac?"

"No, not today... why? What's happened?"

"Molly's found out about Rebecca and Sam. I can't find her and she's not answering her phone. I've just been to Jac's house and she told me in no uncertain terms to fuck off."

"Fucking hell Charlie. I'm not going to say I told you so, but it sounds like it's all gone a bit Pete Tong. Let me call Jac and see what I can find out."

"That's the thing... I'm sorry mate but she told me to tell you to not bother calling her."

"You're fucking kidding me."

"Like I said, I've fucked up big time."

"Right, well you had better double away like a good soldier and un-fuck it up. I'm not losing Jac."

-OG-

He looks for Molly at Qaseem's cafe but Qaseem hasn't seen her either, but promises to let him know if she comes by.

He tries the restaurant he met her in that first night but she's not been seen there either.

He's wandering aimlessly along the river heading in the vague direction of his house boat, aware that he's starting to run out of options.

He knows her family live in Newham in the East End but he doesn't know where exactly and from what she's said about the relationship with her parents, he doesn't think she'd go there anyway.

He has an awful thought that perhaps she's gone back to Dylan. He can't believe that she would have done that, but then Dylan did turn up at the restaurant launch that night full of remorse and apologies. He knows that the house she used to share with him is next door to his old friend and former CO Major Beck but really doesn't want to go there and give that bastard Dylan any ammunition.

He racks his brain thinking of where else she could be? Battersea Park? He can't really search the whole of the bloody park looking for her, besides it will be getting dark soon and shit, it is also starting to rain.

It's then that he recalls their conversation about Albert Bridge and how she sometimes goes there when she wants to think. It's not far and it has to be worth a try.

-OG-

He's almost half way across the bridge before he sees her small figure pressed up against the railings, almost hidden by one of the pillars. She's looking out over the river and seems oblivious to her surroundings. She's not wearing a coat or anything remotely waterproof and is thoroughly soaked.

He stops and thinks carefully about what he needs to say to her and how he is going to make this right.

He walks up to her and gently puts a hand on her arm, "Molly?"

He feels her flinch at his touch. She doesn't turn to look at him and quietly says, "Go away Charles."

"Molly, please look at me."

She turns round, berating herself, "I'm such an idiot."

He attempts to gently hold her face, to make her listen, "Please listen to me. It isn't what you think."

She bats away his hands from her face. She's crying, but there is a calm determination to her, "No, you listen to me. I said no more secrets. I've been through enough. I stupidly believed that there was a man who was different, but it is clear I made a mistake. I never want to see you again."

He feels her slipping away from him, he knows he has to explain and fast, "Molly, I'm so sorry. I am married ..."

He doesn't get to finish his sentence because she pushes past him and runs, runs straight into the road and into the path of a passing motorcycle. He watches in horror as she flies through the air, landing a few metres away on the pavement with a sickening thud, as the motorcyclist skids off the bike coming to a halt in the road a bit further away.

He hesitates for a second before his Army training kicks in. He notes that the motorcyclist is thankfully moving and already getting himself to the safety of the pavement. He's already dialling 999 as he runs over to Molly. She's unconscious and bleeding from her head. He's careful not to move her but covers her with his coat whilst he speaks to the emergency call handler, giving as many details as he can about the accident and the casualties.

He goes over to check on the motorcyclist who seems shaken but thankfully unhurt beyond a few bruises and scratches.

After what feels like an agonisingly long wait, but is in reality only a few minutes, he is immensely relieved to see blue lights of an ambulance and a police car approaching. With professional help imminent, his calmness disappears and he's on his knees next to Molly sobbing and begging for her to be ok.


	15. Chapter 15

**Molly is going to be just fine**

 **Molly misses the train**

Molly is lying in the hospital bed only half listening to the doctor. She already knows what he's going to tell her. She knew as soon as she came round at the bottom of the stairs and felt pain in her abdomen and blood between legs. She's lost the baby.

She's hardly spoken since the fall; she's not felt able to bring herself to speak to anyone beyond answering the necessary questions from the medics who've been caring for her.

Dylan has been playing the dutiful boyfriend, fussing over her and providing additional information to the hospital about the accident and the patient. She has to hand it to him, he hid his surprise at her being pregnant well in front of the doctor and seemed genuinely distressed that she has now lost the baby.

The doctor makes to leave and Dylan's right in there again, taking control of the situation. "Thank you Doctor. I will take it from here and make sure she gets some rest."

Finally alone, he turns to her and tries to hold her hand, but she's too quick for him and manages to pull it away. He's looking at her with a mixture of fear and remorse on his face, "Molly, I'm so sorry. I will do anything you want."

"Anythin'?"

He sounds pitifully apologetic, "Yes. I'm so sorry."

She looks him squarely in the eye, "In that case, I want you to stand up, walk over to the door, open it, walk through it, close it behind you and never come back."

She looks away, indicating that the conversation is finished. It takes him a few minutes to actually leave the room. She can tell he's trying to work out whether there is anything he can say to change her mind but eventually gives up and leaves.

She's all alone when the tears come and she weeps for her lost baby, Dylan's ultimate betrayal and everything else that has gone wrong in her life recently.

-OG-

A little while later, there is a knock on the door and she looks up to see her best friend Jac, which prompts another flood of tears. Jac gives her an enormous hug and wipes away her tears.

"Bloody hell, Molly Dawes. I just looked at your notes and you've had a bloody lucky escape."

She smiles ruefully, "You can say that again Jac."

-OG-

She's finally leaving the hospital after a fitful and broken night's sleep and a frustrating morning trying to get discharged. She's feeling a bit bruised and battered after the fall and has a small cut to her forehead, but she is essentially physically ok.

Jac has insisted that she moves back into her old room for the time being and has promised to go over to the house and collect some of Molly's things when her shift finishes later.

She's wandering through reception, not really concentrating when she hears a familiar voice, "Molly?"

She looks to see Charles, with a woman and a teenage boy, "Charles?"

A few quick strides and he's right in front of her, holding her arms, worriedly looking at her, "Shit, Molly. What happened to you? Are you alright?

She feels so comfortable in his hold and is looking at him shyly, "Long story, but the other guy came off worse."

She suddenly remembers the woman and boy and looks over towards them. She sees that they're watching this exchange with interest.

Charles seems to have forgotten about them too. He lets go of her arms and says apologetically, "Shit, sorry for my bad manners. Molly, this is Rebecca, my soon-to-be ex-wife and this is Sam, my son. We've just been visiting my mum, who's not very well."

Rebecca looks pretty amused at this introduction, and extends her hand, "Is that seriously what you're callling me now? Sorry about him. Nice to meet you Molly."

Sam is also grinning, "Yes, sorry about him. Hello Molly."

Charles looks quite uncomfortable, "Right..."

After a few moments of awkward silence, she gathers her senses, "I'd better be off. I'm sorry to hear about your mum Charles."

It's his turn to look at her shyly, "Thanks... Look can I give you a lift home or buy you a coffee or something? Rebecca, Sam, you don't mind do you?

Rebecca doesn't hesitate and doesn't sound at all bothered by this suggestion, "Not at all Charles. Come on Sam, let's go."

Sam's looking pretty pleased with himself and before he walks away, chides Charles, "Err Dad, there's just one thing wrong with your plan... you didn't bring your car."

Charles' face is full of apology as he turns to her, "Shit, he's right. Let me get you in a cab home."

"Actually, I'm not going home. I'm moving in with my friend Jac. Dylan and I have split up. A coffee or something would be great."

"Right. Lovely."

She's not entirely sure this, whatever 'this' is, is the best idea in her current emotional state, but she knows she doesn't need or want to ignore the obvious attraction between them any longer. As crazy as it seems, she knows she's going to be just fine.

 **Molly catches the train**

Molly can hear distant but familiar voices. She tries to open her eyes but doesn't seem to be able to make it happen. The effort feels too much and she drifts off again.

-OG-

Now someone is shining a light into her eyes which is bleedin' annoying because she's happy sleeping. She's so very tired.

-OG-

She's aware that someone is holding her hand, gently stroking her knuckles. It feels nice and reassuring.

She's trying to open her eyes again and manages it this time. She's blinking because it is bleedin' bright in the room. She focuses on her surroundings and realises it is Charles holding her hand and sees Jac and Elvis stood next to him. She attempts to speak but can't make any sounds because there seems to be a tube in her throat.

Charles is speaking, "Thank god. Jac, she's opening her eyes."

Elvis is heading towards the door, "I'll get the doctor."

Jac's leaning over her, looking at her closely, "Molly, don't try to speak. The tube is to help you breathe. Do you understand?"

She nods.

Charles is still holding her hand and looking at her intently, "Molly, do you remember what happened?

She nods as the memories start to come back. Charles' betrayal, the bridge, running and being hit by a motorcycle.

"You were in an accident. You were hit by a motorcycle. You're going to be ok. The motorcyclist is ok too."

She feels her tears coming again, her heart breaking again and she turns away; she can't look at Charles. She weakly tries to remove her hand from his, but he won't let it go.

"Molly, please don't cry. Please look at me. I know I've messed things up."

He's interrupted by the arrival of a doctor who consults her notes, does some tests and instructs a nurse to remove the tube.

Once it is done, the doctor speaks to her, "You've suffered a nasty head injury and concussion but the CT scan is clear so there should not be any lasting damage. You've got some minor cuts and bruises on your body and will feel a bit bruised and battered for a few days, but you've been very lucky. I'm going to keep you in for observation for 24 hours. Do you have any questions?".

She shakes her head, "No... thank you."

The doctor turns to leave and addresses Charles, Jac Elvis, "Please make sure she gets some rest."

-OG-

Once the doctor has left, there is an uneasy silence in the room. Eventually, she looks at Jac avoiding eye contact with Charles, "Please get 'im to leave."

"I will if you really want me to, but I think you should hear him out. Listen to what he has to say and then if you still feel the same, I will. I promise."

She's surprised that Jac hasn't immediately complied with her wishes. She trusts Jac implicitly, so agrees, "Ok."

As Jac and Elvis leave the room, Charles comes to her side and hesitantly picks up her hand again and lightly kisses her knuckles. "Thank you. Are you sure you're up to this?"

"Not really, but runnin' isn't an option and besides it didn't work out too well for me last time."

A relieved smirk escapes onto his face, before he looks at her and becomes serious again, "I am so sorry Molly. I am married, but we have been officially separated for 6 months and we'll soon be divorced. In reality the marriage has been over for a very long time and I haven't been together with Rebecca in the married sense for years. In fact I haven't been with anyone until I met you."

He's paused and hasn't taken his eyes off her the whole time he's been talking.

"My mother is dying, as you know, and Rebecca agreed to keep up the pretence of our marriage for my mum's sake. Rebecca is with someone else; she will be marrying them as soon as the divorce is final. We have a thirteen year old son, Sam. He's very much part of my life."

He's paused again. She feels his grip on her hands tightening.

"I know I should have told you weeks ago. I've wanted to tell you so many times, but the appropriate moment didn't come up... and then when I had left it so long, I didn't know how to bring it up. Now you've found out in the worst possible way and I wish I had just been braver and told you myself. Shit, I told Rebecca and Sam about you weeks ago."

After everything he's said, this last bit of information is the most surprising to her, "Really?"

"Yes, really. Sam is desperate to meet you. I have been such an idiot. Please forgive me Molly. I love you so much."

"You love me?"

"Yes, more than I ever thought possible. I really don't want to lose you."

She looks at him and knows he is telling her the truth. He has tears in his eyes and looks desperately sorry.

She's taking in everything he's told her. She realises that she's actually ok with the soon-to-be ex-wife and son news. Whilst she wishes he had just told her and they could have avoided all this drama, she is human enough to know that sometimes secrets get out of hand.

"Molly, please say something."

She knows she is going to forgive him because she loves him too, with every fibre of her being and she's not going to deny her own happiness to make a stupid point.

"I love you too Charles. Now please stop holdin' me bleedin' hand and give me a proper kiss."

He laughs with relief, takes her face gently into his hands and looks at her intently, "Thank you Molly, I will never let you down again."

He kisses her tenderly and she feels her whole body respond to his touch; she knows without a doubt that she has made the right decision, that she's going to be just fine.

THE END

 **Thank you for reading and for all your lovely comments during the story. I couldn't resist a HEA ending in both stories. I'd love to hear your final thoughts. I have an idea for my next story but in the meantime if you haven't read my first story "More alike than we realise" and my one-shot, "A mountain proposal" please do!**


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